


Ghosts to Haunt Me

by MonPetitTresor, SpencerRemyLvr



Series: Second Chances [5]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Good Loki (Marvel), He's not all good, Hurt Spencer Reid, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Torture, Poorly written Cajun accent, Protective Remy, Protective Tony Stark, Team as Family, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Well - Freeform, but he's better, chaotic good?, spoilers in tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-14 12:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpencerRemyLvr/pseuds/SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: On his way to meet up with Remy, Spencer is caught up by a ghost from the past he'd never expected to see again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> August, 2018  
> This story takes place two years and two months since Spencer arrived in the MCU, and about a year since the end of Snapshots. Just a quick run down on ages for you guys, so hopefully you’ll be on the same page.  
> Spencer Stark – 17 (18 in October) - Adult Spencer would’ve been 37  
> Peter – 18 and a half  
> Remy – his age was never stated, just guessed, but this story puts him about 23
> 
> If you’re curious about the others, here are their ages as well (We got most of their birthdays from online, so if you feel they’re off, sorry!)
> 
> Tony – 48  
> Bruce – 48  
> Clint – 47  
> Laura – 43  
> Cooper – 15  
> Lila – 8  
> Nate – 3  
> Vision – technically, he’s like, 3 in normal human years  
> Jim Rhodes – 49
> 
> Trigger warnings: The tags list them, but let me reiterate here – there is physical violence in this story. There is some torture, some talk of past torture, talk of blood and death, and mental health issues. There are unhealthy coping mechanisms in here, because I believe every human has a few of those.
> 
> Please, please, heed the tags, and if this isn’t right for you, kindly skip this story. Thank you!
> 
> THIS STORY IS DONE, it's just being edited, so don't worry about it being abandoned before the end! :D

In his time spent in this universe, flying had become one of Spencer’s greatest pleasures. He loved to take his electric board up into the air and feel the freedom all around him as he soared through the sky. It made him feel free in ways nothing else could. Flying with Tony was even better, sometimes. With strong arms around him, and a suit with a person inside he knew would never let anything happen to him, he had all the freedom of soaring without the need to think about anything at all.

However, falling in love with the art of flying seemed to have forever soured him for any sort of standard flight.

The seventeen-year-old sat on one of the cushy seats on his dad’s private jet and stared morosely out the window.

For the past week, Tony and Spencer had been in Paris for a business trip. It'd taken a bit of arranging, but they'd managed to make it safe enough that they were both able to leave without any of the Avengers teams being too far out of balance. With Peter at the tail end of his summer break – now that he was eighteen, he’d officially signed the Accords and was considered an actual Avenger, much to the teen’s joy – and Jim and Carol in charge of the respective teams, they could handle sparing Iron Man and Volt for a little while.

Usually, Spencer wouldn’t have to go with Tony on these things. He _had_ , of course, a few different times, but it wasn’t required. Only, this was an important meeting, and Spencer had been going with Tony to his important meetings for the past six months. Not just for his continued training, either. Tony had come to rely on the impressions that Spencer gave him of people. What he saw about them was a mix of profiling and his empathy, and it was usually startlingly accurate.

Spencer never minded. He liked the challenge of it, and he was a lot more confident then he'd once been. Working and living with Tony could do that to a person. Between his training with Tony, and with Pepper, and even some with JARVIS, plus what he was learning in his online classes, Spencer was starting to feel more and more comfortable around SI. Once he hit eighteen, there were things he’d be able to do and a more active role that he’d have to take. It wasn’t until Spencer was twenty-one that he’d actually step in and take over, though, if not a few years after that. They’d see how well he did and how well he was received. So far, Tony told Spencer that he was doing fantastic. He was charming the people that he met, and he was a whiz at paperwork.

Thinking about that was enough to make Spencer snort a little. He doubted even Pepper realized just how much of Tony’s paperwork Spencer was doing already. Tony had no issue with it whatsoever. It was part of Spencer’s training, after all. “Might as well get used to it now, kid. Ninety percent of the job is _paperwork_.”

When he found Spencer forging his signature on the documents a month later – “You never look at them anyway, so I figured it was just simpler this way, Dad” – he’d laughed so hard he’d almost fallen off the edge of his desk. From that point on, Tony’s office became half Spencer’s office, and pretty much all paperwork that Pepper sent over was done by Spencer. It left Tony free to do exactly what he wanted, which was work in his workshop, deal with the Avengers, _and_ continue his own work to make the Accords better and better for superhumans and mutants.

The Accords. That was part of why the two were flying home now. The business trip they were on was supposed to have lasted for another few days, but Jim had called to let them know that they’d finally heard back from Thor and he was on his way. He and Tony had been communicating off and on through Jane – Thor’s girlfriend – to try and set up a meeting to talk about the Accords as well as plans for the future. This wasn’t going to be a small Avengers meeting, either. No, this was going to be a huge one between the Accords Council, who was in charge of anything related to superheroes and the defense of the earth, the newest Secretary of Defense, a few key Avengers, and the Asgardians. This was going to be everyone’s chance to explain the earth’s laws on powers and fighting, what was and wasn’t allowed, and for them to formally make peace with Asgard. A treaty, as it were.

Tony had been working damn hard at this for quite a while. Getting a peace treaty was the first big step towards some of Tony’s future plans and, as such, he'd been doing his best to get it ready. Everyone had been in a sort of standby as they'd waited for Thor to respond to them. Now that they'd gotten word from him, all was being assembled quickly for a meeting in New York. Everyone was flying back home – Tony and Spencer included.

Which was part of the reason Spencer was annoyed, to be honest. He and Tony had planned to spend a few more days there, and then they were going to fly back home together. Actually _fly_. Only now, there was too much to get done in a short time, and Tony was set up at the back of the jet working through it all, talking to at least seven different people at once, and making sure all the arrangements were in order.

Or, at least, he had been.

“That’s one hell of a pout,” Tony said, his voice coming from right above Spencer. The teen turned his head just enough to look up. He found Tony leaning against the seat back and grinning down at him. “You practice that in front of the mirror or something?”

“I’m not pouting.”

The older man gave a low laugh. He slid down into the seat across from Spencer and immediately kicked his legs up and tucked his feet in against Spencer’s hip. With the toe of one shoe, he nudged at Spencer’s side. “Yeah, sure, kiddo.”

Despite the smile and the teasing, there was something off about Tony, enough so that Spencer turned his focus away from the window. He tilted his head a little, studying Tony's face while taking a read of his emotions at the same time. Worry, a slight wisp of anger, and something calculating that usually came out when he was negotiating business. The combination was enough to put Spencer instantly on alert. “Something's happened.”

Tony didn't try and deny it. It'd been a while since he tried to deny what he felt about something. If he didn't want to talk about it, or Spencer was pushing too far, he wouldn't cover it up the way he once had with jokes. He'd flat out tell Spencer to back off, or that he wasn't in the mood to talk about it, or something else. As Pepper liked to jokingly say, “It only took living with an empath for you to quit acting like you've got no feelings and actually start using your words.”

“Perceptive as ever, Storm Cloud,” Tony said, wiggling his feet in closer. When Spencer shifted, making room for them, the man flashed him a grin that melted away far too quickly into something serious. “Seems like a few things have changed in Asgard. Odin’s still King, but he’s grooming Thor for more and more each day. Getting him ready to take over. So, lucky us, that means that Odin won’t be coming to this meeting, which is a hell of a blessing because I really wasn’t looking forward to meeting with him. But… Thor _is_ bringing someone else.”

“Who?” It had to be someone bad for Tony to look this stressed about it.

Sighing, Tony let his head fall back against the seat and wiped a hand over his face. “Loki.”

That – that was the last name Spencer had expected. He’d heard plenty about Loki over the years. He knew how the world felt about him. How the _Avengers_ felt about him. This was the man who had led the alien attack against the earth, and… Thor was bringing him to a peace meeting? Spencer’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “Shit.”

“Yeah. I guess he paid off his debt to them or whatever, and some new information came to light about Loki’s role in the whole invasion.” Pausing, Tony rubbed at the bridge of his nose, the sign of an impending headache. “It seems our guys weren’t the only ones being controlled. A guy’ll do a lot when someone tries to use their kids as leverage.”

 _Jesus_. Spencer couldn’t help but wince at the idea. If any of the mythology was right, he knew that Loki had a few kids. Whoever was behind this attack, if they’d threatened them, was it any surprise the man had done what he’d done? If he were protecting his children – it didn’t _excuse_ the deaths he’d caused by aiding the invasion, but it did give understanding to it. That is, if this were true. Something which Spencer couldn’t be sure of. He shifted himself in his seat until he could turn a little more towards Tony and away from the window. “Do you believe him?” That was the key question here. Was this a real story, in which case things were suddenly a whole lot different than before, or was it a ruse to gain their favor?

Tony didn’t answer right away. He sat and thought about it, and Spencer let him gather up his thoughts. After a moment, Tony sighed away some of his tension. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. It makes some things make sense that I’ve never understood. Loki, he’s smart. Really, really smart. An invasion like that? There’s no way we would’ve seen him coming if he didn’t want us to. According to Thor, he’s got the ability to shapeshift, to turn himself invisible, and a ton of other spells we can only guess at. If he could do all that, why couldn’t he have snuck in to get the cube? Why announce himself? Or, why not shapeshift into the person they needed for the retinal scan instead of attacking the guy and stealing his eyeball? Sure, a lot of it could be written off as the guy’s need to showboat, but… it never added up.”

Countless different theories built in Spencer’s mind. He gave a low hum as he ran through them. “The impression I have of him from what little information we all have suggests that he’s not fond of humanity. However, I saw nothing that would suggest the kind of hatred that would fuel mass genocide. There usually has to be more emotion for something like that. I can’t be sure, not without thoroughly reviewing all information we possess on him, but nothing that I know of Loki suggests that he felt any of that towards humanity.”

“I didn't get that impression either,” Tony said. Though Spencer didn't know it, the inventor was observing him, reading the play of expressions on his face. The masks that Spencer wore around the world weren't up here where it was just the two of them. What he thought and what he felt flashed over his face and Tony watched it all, marveling as always at the way his boy's mind worked.

Spencer bit the inside of his lip as he discarded a few theories. The most likely one… well, he wasn’t entirely sure that the others would like it. “If we believe he was coerced into this – it sounds to me that all those things you mentioned, they were all done deliberately. A ploy to catch your attention, maybe? Not you personally, but the Avengers and SHIELD, at least.”

“He wanted us to stop him.”

It seemed likely. If that were the case, it was a hell of a plan with a lot of things that were left up to chance. Spencer sat back and absorbed that new information. It certainly put a different spin on things. Before he let himself think about anything else, though, he had to ask… “Does Uncle Clint know?”

The grimace Tony gave was enough of an answer. Clint didn’t know yet, and Tony wasn't at all looking forward to having to tell him. Being a father himself, Clint would likely understand better than most just what measures a person could go to if it meant keeping their children safe. That didn't mean that he wasn't going to still be justifiably pissed. Because Spencer doubted that mind-controlling people was part of Loki's orders. No, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he was sure that that was just another part of the grander plan.

Well, this was one hell of a mess. Spencer drew his feet up onto the seat and automatically curled himself to the side to maximize contact with Tony. “Do you want me there with him when you talk to him?”

Tony shook his head without even thinking about it. “No, that’s the last thing you need to be around for, kiddo. It’s not gonna be pleasant, we both know that, and Clint’s got a right to get as upset as he wants about it. If you’re there…”

“…he’ll hold himself back.” Yeah. Clint was really good at sheltering Spencer from any negative emotions. He wouldn’t let himself feel something too strongly if Spencer were close enough to pick up on it. Spencer couldn’t let him do that for something like this. No, he deserved the chance to feel any way he wanted about everything without worrying about Spencer picking up on it, or the kids hearing it. Thinking of that, Spencer knew he could at least help in _one_ way. “I can keep the kids up at the Compound with me for the night and give you guys some privacy.”

A smile softened Tony’s features. “Now _that_ , I’ll take.”

While others might’ve taken Spencer’s statement entirely the wrong way, probably even made some pretty strong assumptions, Spencer knew the truth about his Dad and the Barton family. He knew that Clint and Tony considered themselves almost like brothers. Nearly as close as Tony was with Jim. He’d go down to Clint’s little house with him and break the news to him with just Laura there, and the three of them would probably talk, and yeah, there was a good chance that Tony would end up sleeping over. For all Spencer knew, he could end up sleeping _with_ them, though not for sex. That, Spencer knew didn’t happen. There was no way Tony would betray Bruce like that. But just sharing a bed? Yeah, he knew it’d happened on more than one occasion. Tony was even more tactile than Spencer was, and sometimes he needed someone who could help chase away the loneliness on the nights that Bruce wasn’t home.

The two shared a smile with each other before both fell quiet. They didn’t say anything; really, they didn’t have to. Both were content to stay in one another’s company as their thoughts drifted off towards what lay ahead. Tony would be thinking about the upcoming conversation, Spencer knew, and the best way to do things while trying to keep from hurting Clint too much. It was just how he was. He hated causing pain for those that he cared about.

For Spencer, his thoughts were a bit different. What he knew about Loki and the invasion was a combination between what he’d seen in his initial research about this universe and some of what he’d heard from various family members over the past few years, including a few late-night nightmare talks with Tony. Not to mention some electronic information he was quite sure Tony didn’t realize he’d accidentally found one time while playing around with FRIDAY.

All of that was making its way through Spencer’s mind as he added in this new variable to upcoming events. He had a feeling that things were about to get much, _much_ more interesting. He had no idea just how accurate that thought would prove to be.

* * *

By the time the two Starks finally made it back to the Compound, just a little ahead of schedule, they found most of their family already there waiting for them. Spencer climbed out of the car and was almost immediately barreled into by a laughing Lila. The eight-year-old was all bright smiles and a warm cheer that just radiated from her and curled around him as surely as her arms and legs did. He couldn’t help but laugh as he wrapped his arms around her in turn and lifted until she was able to twine her legs around his waist. “You’re home, you’re home, you’re home!” she cheered happily, hugging him even tighter.

Spencer laughed again. Holding her close, he took a second to press his face against dark brown hair. “I missed you too.”

The sound of more laughter around them had the two pulling back enough to look at the rest of the group. Lila didn’t let go completely; she settled instead for just shifting her weight to the side and looking up, fully trusting in Spencer to hold her. Luckily, his strength had improved over the years, and Lila was pretty light on her own. It let him shift her weight more to his hip and still keep a hold of her. The fact that all her limbs still held him tight made it easier, too.

Now that he wasn’t being attacked by a tiny Barton, Spencer was free to look around him at the rest of the family there. Tony had already made it to Laura and Clint and exchanged hugs. He stood now with an arm around Laura’s shoulders and Clint on Laura’s other side. Off to his other side was Cooper, who was rolling his eyes at his parents, though Spencer could pick out his quiet joy at having everyone back home with them, plus the relief that nothing had happened to them while they were gone. At fifteen, Cooper was currently far too ‘cool’ to show a lot of that on the outside, much to the amusement of his family.

Three-year-old Nate was being held by Vision, who had a ready smile for Spencer as he made his way forward. Their relationship had only strengthened over the past year. Spencer didn’t hesitate now to hold one hand out, the other still keeping hold of Lila, and let his and Vision’s palms brush over one another in a unique greeting as Spencer’s empathy and electricity brushed against Vision’s personal coding with all the warmth of a tight hug. “It’s good to have you home,” Vision said warmly.

“It’s good to be here.”

There was no chance to say anything else before the door snapped open and a familiar bundle of energy came bouncing out, shouting “Spencer!” Spencer didn’t have enough time to brace himself before he was attacked by the flying insanity that was Peter Parker.

Peter hit them, and Lila let out a laughing shriek as the three of them went tumbling towards the ground. A quick twist made sure that Lila was protected between them when they landed on the grass. Peter laughed and curled himself around them, twisting so that they rolled a little until they ended up with Peter on his back, Spencer half on him, and Lila sprawled across Peter’s chest. The little girl was laughing unashamedly, and Spencer couldn’t help his own chuckles. He pressed an arm against Peter’s shoulder to leverage himself up enough that he could mock glare at his best friend. “Did you have to tackle me?”

“Yep!”

“I’ve only been gone a _week_ , you do realize?”

“Dude, Skype calls and quick visits don’t count,” Peter countered immediately, and, well, he had a point. During the summer they’d only had a few quick visits, and then once Spencer had gone with Tony they’d been reduced to just their nightly Skype calls. Otherwise, it was mostly texting that they were doing. It wasn’t really enough.

No matter how close Spencer got to anyone in this universe, or how comfortable he became with them, none of them would ever be to him what Peter was. The boy – no, he was growing up each day, on his way to becoming a man – was Spencer’s first friend here, the one who had given him almost instant trust and had never left him with cause to doubt. Peter was Spencer’s best friend – his brother. Someone that he knew he would always be able to count on no matter what was happening. He was an anchor, a support, a challenge, and a comfort.

Feeling Peter’s emotions right there, so close and warm and bright, Spencer gave in to the urge to drop his head down against Peter’s shoulder and just… nuzzle in, a little. He reached out with his powers and wrapped them around Peter, letting their emotions twist and mingle together in a greeting that said more than any words.

Lila broke the moment between them when she pressed a hand against Peter’s chest and one against Spencer’s arm and pushed herself up until she was sitting on Peter’s stomach. “You two are so _weird_ ,” was announced with all the authority of a child.

A smirk curved Spencer’s lips, and he opened his eyes to slant a look her direction. “Says the girl who greeted me with a flying leap.”

“That’s cause you catch me,” Lila said simply, looking at him like he was stupid. “You _always_ catch me.”

Clint’s voice rose over theirs and drew their focus up from their little pile. “You guys are all weird,” he told them.

“That does seem to be the norm around here,” Vision said dryly, moving to join the other adults. When he reached them, he set Nate down on the ground, his lips curving into a small smile.

The little boy wasted no time in racing right towards them to join in the pile he was obviously annoyed he'd been denied for this long. He scrambled over Spencer and Peter's legs and shoved his way right up until he could slip in between the two older men and snuggle on in. One of his little hands came up to pat on Spencer's cheek. “Missed you, Spencer. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Nathaniel.” Spencer smiled and leaned in, kissing the little boy’s forehead. Nate held a special place in his heart out of all the Barton kids. Cooper was close enough to Spencer’s physical age that they had a unique friendship, though Cooper was closer to Peter really. Lila, well, she was Spencer’s little ball of sunshine, her emotions so much like small bursts of sunlight in his life. But Nate? Nate had been so young when Spencer first met him, just barely a year.

Because of that, and the memory capabilities of a child, for him it was as if Spencer had always been there. He wasn’t new or strange or anything like that beyond the first few times they’d seen one another. He’d taken to Spencer so quickly, and to his empathy as well. He never flinched over it when Spencer projected to him. If anything, he sought it out when he was sad or not feeling well, liking how it felt to be wrapped up in positive emotions like a warm blanket.

It took a few minutes more of snuggling and laughing before Spencer finally managed to extract himself from the group of kids on the ground. Of course, the instant he was on his feet, he was being hugged by Clint first and then Laura. “Welcome back, sweetheart,” Laura said warmly, cupping his cheek only briefly before letting go.

Though he’d gotten better about these kinds of things, there were still times like this where the affection and feelings of _love_ and _family_ displayed so openly like this left Spencer feeling embarrassed and unsure what to do with himself. He was used to caring about people and having a select few friends who were close enough to care in return. This huge family he’d found here never got any less awe-inspiring.

To try and distract from his momentary discomfort, Spencer flashed a smile he’d picked up from his father figure, one meant to charm and disarm. “I’m glad to be home. After that long plane trip, I’m more than ready to find somewhere to comfortably relax.” His smile grew a little. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy my homecoming with Chinese and movies, and I’m stealing your children. I’ve had enough adult time these past few days.”

No one protested it. Lila let out a loud ‘whoop’ of excitement, and even Cooper looked a little bit pleased.

From his perch on Peter’s shoulders, Nate gave a cheer as the two straightened up, crying out a loud “Yes!!” that had everyone laughing.

Warmth filled Spencer as his family all laughed around him. Feeling them there, the emotional signatures that couldn’t be replicated, all of them safe and healthy and right there with him, there was no better homecoming. He carried the warmth of it with him even as the adults headed off for their own, and the kids, plus Vision – who, really, was one of the kids if you wanted to take into account his physical age – all headed into the Compound. JARVIS had ordered the Chinese for them as soon as he knew they were close to home, so it’d already been delivered, which made Spencer snicker a little at how much they must’ve tipped to get someone to bring it all the way out here.

Armed with plenty of food, they headed to Tony’s private floor where the better TV was. Tony would grumble if he knew they chose here instead of their own floor, but they didn’t care, and JARVIS didn’t say anything.

The Barton kids didn’t seem to sense anything was up, and neither did Vision, but Peter cornered Spencer in the kitchen as he grabbed drinks for everyone. His eyes were sharp as they ran over Spencer’s face and he laid a hand on Spencer’s arm, keeping him in place. “Everything okay?”

His voice was a low murmur pitched so that the others couldn’t hear. Even so, Spencer snuck a look, making sure they weren’t paying any attention. Vision and Nate were on the loveseat, and Lila and Cooper were bickering for space on the couch, kicking at one another in that halfhearted way that suggested they were doing it mostly to annoy one another. Watching them, Spencer hoped that this newest information wasn’t going to cause trouble for them, or any other members of his family. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Spencer shook his head. Not right now. Not while the others were here and there was a chance of them overhearing. “Later.”

Nodding, Peter didn’t press him any further, for which Spencer was grateful. The other teen just reached out and gathered up some of the drinks that Spencer was grabbing and helped him carry them out to the living room. Later, Spencer would sit up with Peter while the others slept and explain to him what was going on and get his opinion on things. For now, he was going to just enjoy being with everyone and relaxing in front of a movie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG guys your comments slayed us O.O I wish our work schedules didn't suck so much so we could take the time to reply to them all. But please know, we've read them and LOVED them, and squealed over a few. We're so happy you guys are loving this! Hopefully, you continue to do so ;)

Morning found Spencer up before the rest of his family. It wasn’t an unusual thing; he was often up before quite a few of them, though it wasn’t uncommon to find Tony up, usually because the inventor hadn’t even gone to bed yet. Today, however, there was no one in the kitchen when Spencer made his way in there. A quick reach to JARVIS let him know that everyone here in the Compound was still asleep, except for Vision, who was outside.

 ** _And the rest of them?_** Spencer asked.

There was a second for him to check before JARVIS answered. **_They have been awake for a short while. Currently, they’re drinking coffee and talking, though I believe they might be done soon._**

Spencer tried not to grimace as he thought of the conversation they were likely having. No, he didn’t want to think about that. Not yet – not without any caffeine in his system. What little sleep he’d gotten last night hadn’t been the best, and he wasn’t anywhere near alert enough for deep, serious thoughts.

He took hold of his first cup of coffee and brought it up to his lips while making his way to the fridge. A check inside showed him that, first of all, they needed to go shopping. It was apparent most of the stuff that Tony kept in here had been thrown out or hadn't been ordered in a while. Not surprising, considering they’d been gone, but usually Tony kept his private kitchen stocked because of how many family breakfasts they’d taken to having in here.

Spencer shifted around a few ideas before finally settling on one they had the ingredients for. Then he started gathering together the necessary items. **_Does anyone have anything on their schedule before 9 a.m., JARVIS?_**

**_Mr. Parker has to be to work by eight thirty. His alarm just went off, which should give him time enough to shower and enjoy some breakfast before leaving._ **

Mm. Spencer glanced at the nearby clock – it was only seven. Yeah, plenty of time for Peter to shower and have a bite to eat before he went anywhere. Spencer took in his ingredients, did the quick math to calculate what would be needed for all the present people, and then set about getting things ready. **_Will you let Dad know breakfast should be ready in about forty minutes if they’d like to join us, please?_**

**_Of course, sir._ **

A smile ghosted across Spencer's lips. Hearing the formal-sounding ‘sir' from JARVIS – despite how informal and affectionate the title truly was – was always an amusing contrast to the ‘Doc' or ‘Little Boss' that FRIDAY liked to use. The two were definitely their own people, and Spencer would dare anyone to fight him on that. JARVIS was older, more distinguished, sharper, and definitely sassier. He had sarcasm down to an art form and a dry humor that made Tony laugh frequently. FRIDAY, meanwhile, was younger and a bit more impulsive sometimes, not as sure of her place or her actions as JARVIS was, but she was full of more open humor that tickled across Spencer’s senses, and a fiery loyalty that threatened to burn anyone stupid enough to threaten those she cared for.

Yet, despite their differences, the two worked together quite well. They didn’t seem to mind divvying up their places while still collaborating with one another to keep them perfectly safe and covered. Nor did they ever seem to mind Spencer’s presence in their systems. They made room for him like it was natural for him to be there, like it was just _okay_ , and Spencer loved them all the more for it. He was often connected to them even if he didn’t need to be while he was home.

He was connected now, just a light little mingling of electrical energy that had no real purpose except a sense of comfort to him as he started his food prep. Considering how he knew last night had to have gone, at least a little bit, he was glad they’d had the ingredients necessary to make one of Clint’s favorite breakfasts. It wasn’t much; Spencer wished he could do more. But at least he knew he could make his uncle smile a little.

Music started to play through the room. The soft sounds of Adrian Von Ziegler filled the air. Spencer hummed happily with it as he set about making rancheros cups and fresh biscuits. He also decided to make some white spiced coffee, something all three adults loved.

By the time the elevator door opened, signifying their arrival, the coffee was just finishing up, and the food still had about ten minutes left to cook. Spencer briefly looked up from where he was pouring cups at the bar to take in the people coming in. Laura led the way, looking just as put together as ever, smiling and happy to see him. There was a hint of stress at her edges, though. The tension just slightly tightened the corners of her eyes. Right behind her was Clint, who definitely showed signs of strain on his shoulders and the bags under his eyes – nightmares, then – though, honestly, there was less than Spencer had expected.

Tony looked far too chipper on the outside. Especially when compared to the worry and fear that sat on the inside. He was smiling as he lifted a finger and pointed it at Spencer. “You know, you guys have your own floor to hang out on. No one said you had to come and make a mess of _mine_.”

Smothering a smile, Spencer shrugged. “Yours is more comfortable.” It was true, too. Not just because of furniture and such, either. There was a… a _feeling_ on Tony's floor. Like he'd left some sort of emotional imprint in his space. Walking in here always made Spencer feel a little like Tony was with him, even if the genius wasn't in the room.

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Clint breathed out, eyes zeroing right in on the cups that Spencer had just finished filling. When the teen held one out to him, he practically pounced, some of his tension fading away as he happily brought the cup to his lips and burned his mouth on that first drink. “You’re the best kid on the planet, Spencer. Swear to God.”

Rolling his eyes, Spencer picked up the next mug and passed it over to Laura, who was grinning at him. Spencer smiled back and then shot Clint a look of amusement. “You’re easy to please. I’ve also got rancheros cups and cheese drop biscuits.” Spencer grinned at him, well aware of the reaction he was going to get.

He wasn’t disappointed. Clint made an obscenely happy sound that Spencer would’ve been quite happy never hearing. When Clint reached out to hug him, the young genius quickly ducked out of the way, snatching up his own mug and Tony’s as he did. “Oh, no!” He shamelessly used Laura as a buffer and darted around the counter to where Tony had seated himself at the bar. Moving right up to Tony’s side, he set a mug down in front of him, happily letting Tony wrap an arm around him and tuck him in close. Spencer snuggled in and shot Clint a mock-glare. “You’re not allowed to touch me when you make noises like that. Even the idea of it is highly uncomfortable.”

“ _I’m_ uncomfortable with it.” Tony chimed in. He tugged Spencer closer and added his own fake-glare. “Quit corrupting my baby boy, Barton.”

Laura snorted out a laugh at the offended look on Spencer’s face at the ‘baby boy’ remark, while Clint gave an entirely different kind of snort. “He’s a Stark. There’s not much corrupting left to do after that.”

Identical grins lit up Spencer and Tony’s faces. The more time the two spent together, the more alike they seemed to become, much to the occasional discomfort of others. This was one of those moments.

Luckily, Clint was saved from whatever remark might come by the sound of a door opening and then footsteps coming their way. A moment later Peter was making his way into the room. He was freshly showered and dressed, clearly ready to head out to work. At the sight of all of them, he lit up a little, a smile lighting his face. “Hey, guys! Wow, I didn’t expect everyone to be up yet.”

“You’re not the only one who has somewhere to be this morning.” Spencer pointed out. He left his mug on the counter and ducked out from under Tony’s arm, making his way to the oven, which was set on low just to keep everything warm. “I know you’re probably in a hurry, but at least take some breakfast with you. You haven’t been eating enough.”

Behind him, he heard Clint mumbled “Pot, meet Kettle,” which made Laura and Tony chuckle. Peter grinned at him and didn’t bother mumbling as he said “You’ve really got no room to talk, dude. If anything, you look like you lost another few pounds.”

Oh, damn him. Spencer hunched his shoulders and tried not to look behind him as he pulled the food out of the oven. So, okay, he _might’ve_ lost a little bit of weight recently. Between using his electrical powers – which made him burn energy rather quickly – and then getting lost in work, which always led to him forgetting meals, Spencer hadn’t gotten as much to eat he probably should have. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to actually admit that to everyone, and he might’ve been wearing Tony’s old MIT sweater to help cover it up a little bit. “Nothing quite as drastic as that,” Spencer tried to claim, straightening back up and putting one of the pans on the counter. He took advantage of the angle he was at to shoot Peter a glare the others wouldn’t be able to see.

“Nice try, kiddo,” Tony called out. He had his elbows on the bar and his cup cradled between his hands, sharp eyes watching Spencer over the rim of it. “I’m not as blind as you think I am.”

Great. Spencer saw trips down to Bruce in his future, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Though, speaking of Bruce… Spencer looked up and tilted his head a little. “Where's Bruce and Uncle Jim? They never showed up last night.”

“Dr. Banner and Colonel Rhodes stayed at a hotel in the city last night as a sort of protection detail.” JARVIS supplied the answer for him. “They’ve been placed in charge of the external security detail for today’s meetings. All Avengers teams are currently with them.”

Huh. Okay. Spencer tried not to squirm as he realized he hadn’t exactly asked after anyone last night. He’d been too focused on spending time with the kids and worrying about his own problems. With Peter and Vision both there, he’d just sort of assumed that they’d let him know if anything was going on.

He covered up his momentary embarrassment by serving up some of the food and handing it over to Peter. “Eat this, at least, before you go anywhere.”

With his back to the others, Peter gave Spencer an apologetic look and mouthed ‘sorry' to him. He'd obviously snarked back instinctively and hadn't meant to call Spencer out on the weight loss in front of everyone. Spencer didn't even try to stay annoyed with him. He just sighed and gave a small shrug to one shoulder, a sort of ‘what can you do' gesture.

When Peter moved again, and Spencer could see the others, it only took a look to let him know that Tony wasn’t going to let this go. Oh, he’d likely keep quiet about it for now. He’d learned early on that he’d have better luck ambushing Spencer in private. Doing it in front of others was a quick way to guarantee that Spencer would either clam up or run. That meant that Spencer had a lovely ambush to look forward to later on. JARVIS and/or FRIDAY would undoubtedly help Tony pin him down, just as they’d help push whatever meal plan Tony decided on. It wasn’t the first time Tony subjected him to something like that. Him _or_ Bruce.

For now, though, Tony let it go, and they were free to enjoy a rather peaceful breakfast. Laura gathered the kids, who came in wearing pajamas and sleepy expressions. It didn’t escape Spencer’s notice that Clint and Laura both seemed to put themselves a little closer to their kids today. They felt a little more protective than usual, too. Not a real big surprise considering what they’d learned last night. Both Clint and Laura were the type to imagine themselves in Loki’s shoes; it had to be a terrifying thought.

Spencer didn’t really notice the difference in Tony’s behavior. He took note of the way that Tony sat a little closer to him than normal, and his protectiveness, sure, but he just chalked it up to the whole weight-loss thing.

About halfway through breakfast, Spencer’s phone buzzed him. He didn’t pull it out – phones weren’t allowed at the table unless they went off with emergency tones – but he did cheat a little. While the others were caught up in conversation, Spencer closed his eyes and reached out to his phone, accessing it as he’d learned how to do. It let him pull up the image of the text in his mind. What he found had his lips twitching just the slightest bit. The text wasn’t an emergency; it was, however, one he didn’t want to ignore.

_Think you can ditch your handlers today? – Remy_

Remy texting him to ask that could only mean one thing. The Cajun must’ve come into the city for something and was looking for company. He did it every few weeks, and he always made a point to message Spencer so they could get together when he did. The two had grown quite a bit closer this past year. In some ways, Remy was the second best friend that Spencer had, right behind Peter. He was close enough in age to Spencer, physically older and mentally younger, but not too far either way, with a maturity that was beyond his years and a childishness that countered it all.

Manipulating his phone was easy enough. Spencer sent off a reply of ' _Shouldn't be too hard. What'd you have in mind?'_

When he blinked his eyes and looked up once more, it was to find Tony watching him, a smirk on his lips. The older man lifted his fork and wagged it at Spencer. “What've I told you about texting at the table, young man?”

Once, Spencer probably would have shifted around uncomfortably in his seat, or ducked his head and flushed a little. Time with Tony had taught him to relax a bit more. At least, here with family. Because of that Spencer had no issue in putting on his most innocent face - eyes wide, eyebrows up, lips parted just a little - and he held up his hands and twisted them back and forth a little bit to show they were empty. “I don't have my phone!”

Crinkles appeared around Tony's eyes as he grinned broadly. There were a few more laugh lines than there'd once been. “You're getting too damn good at that. If I didn't know you better, I might actually believe you.”

“Dad, I'm hurt!” Spencer dropped his hands back down and let his bottom lip jut out ever so slightly in a pout. “You think I'm lying to you?”

There wasn't enough time for Spencer to dodge the tap to his nose that Tony gave with his fork. Still grinning - even more so now at Spencer's disgusted look - Tony shook his head. “I think it still counts as texting even if you're using your powers to do it, brat.”

The others at the table were all laughing as Spencer used his napkin to wipe his face and Tony smugly went back to eating his food.

He should've realized Tony would catch him out on what he was doing. Sometimes it was a bit scary just how much Tony noticed that other people didn't. There were plenty of times that Spencer could pull something past the others. Even Clint! But tricking Tony was surprisingly hard. Which was why it was no surprise when Spencer caught Tony's amused look and eyebrow raise a moment later when Spencer took a second to check Remy's response: _Meet me for coffee, some shopping, maybe lunch? - Remy._

Flushing just a little, Spencer ducked his head and sent off a quick 'Ok' before letting go of his powers and ignoring any other vibrations from his phone.

Breakfast was a quick affair; despite the amount of food and the people at the table, all of them had things to do with their days, and so they were all quick to finish up and head out. That was generally how breakfast worked for them. Dinner was the time for conversation. Breakfast was about getting fed and giving everyone a chance to wake up. Often, they were quiet, especially with quite a few of them that weren't alive or alert until a few cups of coffee.

Spencer knew that Tony had important plans for the day. It was the whole reason they'd come back, after all. So he wasn't expecting it when Tony followed him away from breakfast and towards his bedroom. He slipped an arm around Spencer's waist as they walked, and Spencer tucked an arm around him in return, enjoying the touch. Spencer waited until they were far enough away not to be heard before he asked the question he'd been aching to ask all morning. “How's Uncle Clint doing?”

“Meh.” Tony held up his free hand and wiggled it back and forth in a so-so gesture. “He's not happy. There's a lot of anger there. Not that it doesn't make sense an all. I mean, if any of us have a reason to be pissed off, I'd say it's Barton. An I'm pretty sure he's gonna find a way to deck the guy at some point, just to feel better. But... he understands better than most what kind of motivator Loki was working under, an he's willing to work on forgiving enough to be able to work with the guy. I figure that's all we can ask for.”

“Do you think he'll be okay?”

Tony gave Spencer a small squeeze. “I think our hawk's a lot tougher than people give him credit for. He'll be fine.” The two had reached Spencer's door by then, and Tony let go enough to let Spencer go in first, following after him with a grin. “Honestly, I'm more curious about you right now.”

“What about me?” Spencer asked, tilting his head to watch as Tony dropped down onto his bed.

The engineer stretched himself out and folded his hands behind his head. He looked completely comfortable in Spencer's room. More than that, Spencer felt comfortable having him there. The only person that Spencer could ever remember being this comfortable with inside his personal space was Derek. Even that hadn't been anything like this, though. That had been an acknowledgment of someone he trusted in an area that Spencer considered private. This... this was just Tony, and there wasn't anything about Tony that Spencer considered uncomfortable or untrustworthy.

“I'm guessing that was Remy you were texting at the table.”

Spencer quickly turned towards his closet to try and hide the way he knew his cheeks colored. The knowing sound in Tony's voice had made it clear just what he thought about _that_. Turning away didn't stop his father figure from teasing him, though. It had Tony giving a low, delighted laugh. “I knew it! He's the only one that gets you to look like that. So, you two heading out on a date today?”

“We're not _dating_ ,” Spencer insisted for what felt like the millionth time. Tony acted like this each time that Remy came out and visited.

“Mm-hm.” The amount of disbelief in that was clear enough for Spencer to pick up on, even if he hadn't been able to feel it coming off Tony right alongside the older man's good humor and affection. “You two are ridiculous, you realize that, right?”

“Let's have JARVIS and FRIDAY bring up the data on how long it took you and Uncle Bruce to move beyond friends and start dating, and then you come talk to me about how you think my friendship with Remy is ridiculous.”

“Oh, shots fired! You're _sassy_ today.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. He dug through the clothes in his closet to try and find something that might work for today. “It comes from prolonged exposure to you.” There had to be something in here that could be comfortable, nice, and yet casual. Coffee, shopping, and a meal were not cause to dress up fancy. However, Spencer didn't want to go complete grunge in an attempt at undercover, either. While this was _not_ a date – he didn't care what Tony said! – it didn't mean that he had to look bad. Especially since Remy always managed to look so put together, even when he was in a tank top and torn-up jeans.

A nudge at Spencer's shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He hadn't even realized Tony had gotten up until the man was moving him out of the way and reaching out to sift through his clothes. It only took a moment for Tony to find what he was looking for. Some of Spencer's softest dark blue jeans were tossed at him, followed by a lavender button-up and a black vest. “Comfortable, casual for you, and the jeans make it look like you actually have an ass,” Tony told him, turning and flashing him a grin. He ignored Spencer's sputtered protests and nudged him towards the bathroom. “Go on, go get ready. I've got to head out anyways before I end up later than I already am. But I want to hear all about your not-date when I get back tonight!”

Spencer was torn between blushing and laughing as he made his way into the bathroom.

* * *

One hour later Spencer was walking down the street with his hands stuffed down in his pockets. He'd flown most of the way here and then set himself down in an alley before merging out with the traffic on the street.

The walk gave Spencer plenty of time to think. That wasn't always a good thing, as even Spencer could admit he had a tendency to over-think things. But he couldn't really help it. Especially when it came to this particular subject. _Remy_.

Ever since Spencer had first met the charming Cajun, he'd found himself drawn to the other man in ways that Spencer wasn't entirely comfortable with, for a multitude of reasons. Remy was a fantastic friend, a wonderful person, charming, witty, a bit self-deprecating, but Spencer was the same way so he couldn't exactly judge - and he was dangerous. Far, far too dangerous for Spencer's peace of mind. Or his heart.

While it wasn't common for Spencer to find himself attracted to someone - sex had never been something he needed, though he could enjoy it under the right circumstances, sometimes - he couldn't deny even to himself that he found Remy attractive. Not just in looks, but in personality. The closer they got, the stronger it became. And they had been getting awfully close. Especially during this past year. Very rarely did a day go by where the two didn't message each other at least once. Sometimes, when Remy was on missions, he could go radio silent for a bit. However, he was always quick to call Spencer as soon as he was able.

If Spencer was back home, and he'd met Remy... well, it wouldn't be as much of a problem. Spencer wouldn't have known what to do, really. Flirting had never been something he'd excelled at. There wouldn't have been this big mental block that kept him in a constant state of limbo, though.

Remy was in a dangerous position. He was older than Spencer, physically, without being _too_ old as to make him a pervert for being with Spencer. Nor was he really too young for where Spencer was, mentally. Not to mention, the life that Remy had led, the bits that he'd shared with Spencer in late-night phone calls whispered in the dark of their separate rooms, well, it was clear that Remy had been forced to grow up fast. He was old beyond his years in ways that put him even closer to Spencer. He'd seen and been through more than people twice his age.

Yes, Remy was dangerous, in all the right and yet wrong ways.

It left them in a strange sort of limbo with one another. They flirted – not even Spencer could deny that. They talked constantly. There were these get-togethers that Spencer _knew_ counted as dates no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Yet neither of them had ever pushed things any further.

Remy was one of the few people who knew the truth of Spencer's existence here. He knew that Spencer was older, that he was from a different universe, and so Spencer had never had to hide anything from him. He'd never had to lie about his past. Talking to Remy was almost as easy as talking to Tony or even Peter. Because of that, Remy knew probably more about him than anyone except Tony. With Peter... he was so _young_. So innocent in so many ways. Spencer loved him like he'd loved Derek; like he imagined one would love a brother. That meant that he wanted to protect him. Shelter his innocence and preserve it for as long as possible. So he didn't tell Peter some things. Not because he didn't trust him, but because Peter didn't need to know that kind of horror existed.

But he could tell Tony. Or Remy. Or Logan. There wasn't much he could say to those three that would shock them.

Spencer sighed and twisted to pass by a woman who was coming too close on the sidewalk. Whining about this to himself wasn't going to get him anywhere. Spencer knew he needed to really sit down and make some sort of decision soon. He just... he wasn't sure what to do.

Maybe he should talk to Tony about it. Or Bruce. For all Tony's blustering about things or his teasing, he was really good at putting that all away when 'his kids' needed him to and talking seriously with them. Bruce, however - he was really, really good at helping Spencer to put a name to the emotions that Spencer wasn't sure of. He never mocked Spencer for not understanding his own emotions, or why he was reacting to something the way he was. He'd sit down with Spencer and talk it all out with him and give Spencer a name to put to what he was feeling. Sometimes, that was more important than anything.

Caught up in his own thoughts, Spencer had been absently walking, long-since accustomed to walking through the streets of New York. His shields were better than they'd used to be and the city didn't bother him in small bursts like this.

Other emotions still got in, though. Ones that Spencer had trained himself to almost always sense. Like the air of _'danger, threat, violence_ ' that was coming from nearby. It was a combination that never boded well for whoever it was turned on.

Spencer reacted without thinking. He altered his course, darting around a couple who swore loudly at him. He called back a quick “Sorry!” and kept on going.

He thought he was braced for just about anything. In his patrols with Peter, there'd been a lot of bad situations that Spencer had come across, and his instincts had gotten so much better.

There was no preparing for this.

Something hit Spencer hard in a way he'd never felt before. It didn't hit his _body_ \- it hit _inside_ him, right down at the core of him, and jolted through every inch of him. Spencer jolted, hard, as if he'd been electrocuted. It almost felt like he had! His electricity was _screaming_ in him, and there was nothing Spencer could do.

The pain faded, but it seemed to take his energy with him. He felt himself falling and couldn't stop it. Could barely even feel it when he impacted with the hard ground of the alleyway. The world felt empty and numb around him, and Spencer was panicking underneath the strange haze that had settled over him.

The sound of shoes had him opening up eyes that had gone heavy. Spencer barely had the strength to roll his eyes enough to watch as those shoes came into view.

Darkness crept up on him. Spencer's eyes were already closing, and he could feel himself falling, sinking down into it.

The last thing he heard before he slid under was a low voice saying “Hello, Dr. Reid.”

* * *

Some days Tony couldn’t help but wonder who the hell had decided to mistake him for a responsible adult and put him in charge of _anything_. Especially on days like this when the inventor wanted nothing more than to go back home to the Compound and lose himself in his workshop for a few hours. Or maybe go and sit in on Spencer’s training session with Clint, or snag his kid and Bruce and go sit down to watch some stupid show on TV for a while. Those sounded amazingly appealing right now. A whole lot better than standing in the elevator at Stark Towers, on his way to one of the higher conference levels.

They’d agreed on Stark Tower as a sort of middle ground for everyone. Tony had been the one to push for it. There was no embassy for Asgard – something that Spencer had been the one to warn him should be rectified if the treaty went through – and there was no government building for superhuman and mutant affairs… _yet_. Tony and Charles Xavier had been working their asses off to try and get together all they’d need to start up what would be known as DSAMA: The Department of Superhuman and Mutant Affairs.

That was a whole other ballgame, though. Something that Tony would be able to focus more of his attention on once he got everything with Thor and Asgard squared away. With Spencer taking on more and more behind-the-scenes responsibility of SI, plus Pepper’s fantastic leadership, the company didn’t need as much of Tony’s attention anymore. That left Tony free to tackle the million other things on his to-do list.

It made him snort a little as he thought about all the things he was juggling lately. Who would’ve ever guessed that this was where he’d end up? Iron Man had been born during Tony’s personal hell, deep inside a cave where humanity had been left far behind. Tony had used that suit to do better. To help people. He’d fought off aliens, countless bad guys, and he’d saved lives. At one point, he’d been sure it was what he’d do for the rest of his life. That he’d eventually die inside that suit.

That last part might very well still come true. But the rest of it? Iron Man was becoming less and less of Tony’s primary focus in life. He had too much else to do now. Too many things to _live_ for. He had the New Avengers – so much better than the last ones – and he still went out and fought against evil. Iron Man still saved lives. But when Tony got home now, it wasn’t to his workshop and his bots. He came home to friends and family. If Bruce hadn’t Hulked out, he was generally there waiting for Tony, making sure he and the others were okay. Spencer would often be there, doing his own personal check, and likely sneaking in a bit of accelerated healing with his powers despite Tony’s usually loud protests that he was okay.

Tony had family dinners now, and movie nights. He had weeknights curled up on the couch with Bruce under his arm, the two of them watching some stupid show or another, usually with Spencer – and sometimes Peter – sprawled out somewhere nearby. Sometimes sprawled _on_ them. He had training sessions that made him laugh as much as they taught him anything and never left him feeling inadequate or too old. He had debriefings that weren’t just a ‘what did Tony do wrong’ session. The people Tony worked with understood how his brain worked, at least a little, and they’d all learned that Tony sometimes made decisions out in the field that didn’t make sense to them at the time because Tony’s brain worked through probabilities too fast for the rest of them to keep up.

Tony had a _real_ family. He had Bruce and Spencer. Peter. Jim, Vision, Clint, Laura, the baby Bartons, Pepper. Carol was slowly becoming a part of them, the closer she and Jim got. Hell, in some ways he'd even started to adopt a few X-Men if he were being honest. Logan was becoming more and more of a figure in the Compound, visiting to help out with missions or to just pop in and see Spencer, and Remy was also becoming a more frequent guest. One that Tony had a feeling he should probably start preparing to see on a lot more regular basis.

It’d taken losing everything to gain this, yet Tony wouldn’t trade a moment of that. Not when all of that had led him to here.

Besides, the Avengers was better than ever. Their numbers were climbing, little by little, and Tony had such hope for the new ones making their way to them. Carol was an _excellent_ team leader. Tony didn’t regret in the least bit bringing her on. Hope – Wasp – was another addition that Tony was pleased with. She’d only been with them for a little over a month, but already she was proving to be useful. She was one of the ones that didn’t live in the Compound. She had her own life outside of Avenging. Then there was Bruce’s cousin, Jen, who was another that had a life outside of the Avengers, yet she’d signed the Accords, and she came and trained with them when she could. If they needed her, they’d be able to call on her.

That wasn’t even counting some of the younger ones that had come to them looking for help, seeking to join the team. Kamala – Ms. Marvel – and a young girl that Clint had brought to them named Kate. For now, Carol was in charge of their training, and they were both not officially on the roster yet.

But it just went to show that the Avengers were growing. They were thriving. They didn’t need Captain America or any of those others. They could do this.

Tony was pulled from those thoughts by JARVIS alerting him to their arrival. He blinked his eyes clear just in time for the elevator doors to open. Right, time to focus on what was in front of him. The rest of it could wait.

There were a few of them already here, Tony knew. Bruce and Jim were here, for protection, and the Accords Council would be arriving shortly, as would the Secretary of Defense. But JARVIS had alerted Tony when he’d arrived downstairs that both Thor and Loki had arrived at almost the same time as him.

It'd be good to see Thor again. Despite their last face-to-face meeting - during Ultron, and that was definitely something that Tony _didn't_ want to think about, thank you very much - there was hope in Tony that this meeting might go a whole lot better. So far, their talks had. Thor seemed to have grown. Matured.

Loki was the one that Tony was anxious about. On the one hand, he couldn't exactly blame the guy for what he'd done if this Thanos bastard had been threatening his kids. What wouldn't Tony do if someone held Spencer or Peter's safety over him as leverage? On the other hand... the guy had caused a lot of destruction. A lot of death. That wasn't something that could just be wiped under the table.

The elevator reached their floor, but the doors didn't open right away. Tony was leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed, and he knew JARVIS was giving him a moment to relax and gather himself before he walked out in front of anyone. “Are we doing the right thing here, J?”

JARVIS didn't even need Tony to clarify what he was talking about. He knew Tony better than anyone else out there. “I think, if Mr. Liesmith is willing to make reparations for what he has done, it would be hypocritical to deny him that right. I also believe that denying ourselves an ally in him would be a foolish mistake.”

“Yeah.” Yeah, he was right. Tony had been given a chance at a second shot. A chance to remake himself and make things right. Could he deny Loki the same? “Thanks, J. You always know the right thing to say.”

“I strive to do my best, Sir.”

A smile curved Tony's lips. Not a day went by when he wasn't grateful to Spencer and Vision for the gift they'd given him. There was nothing out there that could compare to giving him back JARVIS. Tony had no idea how he'd survived so long without him.

By the time Tony left the elevator, he was once more put together and exuding the confidence that Tony Stark was known for. This was a business – that meant it was time for him to be Tony Stark, businessman. There was no room for just plain Tony here right now.

* * *

It helped Tony quite a bit when he walked into the conference room and saw both Bruce and Jim right off the bat. Maybe it made him sound like a bit of a sap, but there wasn't much that Tony didn't feel like he could face so long as he had Bruce at his side. Not just for Hulk reasons, either, though that definitely helped. Hulk understood a lot more than people gave him credit for. Lately, he seemed to be opening up more. _Talking_ more. He knew that Tony was important to Bruce, so he was therefore important to Hulk as well. But it was Bruce himself that gave Tony strength and confidence, just by being himself.

The warm smile that crossed Bruce's lips when Tony came in helped to erase some of Tony's tension. Enough that he was able to smile back without having to fake it. Bruce, while clearly uncomfortable with being here, wasn't afraid, and it showed. That helped, too.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Tony greeted easily, not the least bit ashamed of it. He enjoyed Bruce's faint blush and turned to grin at Jim next. “An you too, Honey Bear.”

Jim was grinning, though there was a wry tilt to it. “Hey, Tone.”

For his part, Bruce just reached out a little when Tony got close, letting their fingers brush against one another.

That was all the attention Tony paid them for a moment, though. At the far end of the room were the two most important visitors for today.

Thor and Loki stood side by side looking so much like Tony last remembered them - and so very different. Thor had clearly changed quite a bit. While he was in full Asgardian dress today - straight down to the cape and everything - he carried himself with an air that was quite a bit more regal than the last time. It was the air of someone who was no longer just pretending at being a prince. This was someone who was going to become King.

At his side, Loki looked... well, honestly, he looked a whole lot less crazy and a lot more composed than Tony remembered. His green eyes were sharp and clear, and he had opted to forgo Asgardian dress, it seemed, instead he was wearing a completely black suit. His hair was slicked back as well, giving him a completely professional look. It was strange to see.

The things that Tony had learned from Thor were playing through his mind right now. Especially as he and Loki caught gazes. There were things that Tony hadn't shared with Spencer - partially because he didn't want to influence the kid's thoughts about him any more than they were already going to be, and partially because Tony didn't care if Spencer had seen or heard worse, he still wanted to protect him. He'd told Spencer about Loki being pressured to do things just to keep his kids safe. He hadn't mentioned the torture Thor said that Loki had undergone, or the extensive healing that the Allmother had put Loki through once they had him home.

Whatever had happened, he looked a whole lot better than before in ways that didn't quite show anywhere but his eyes.

Tony debated for only a half a second before he let his grin shift into a smirk. “You're looking a whole lot less insane than the last time I saw you.”

Offense instantly tightened Thor's features. Meanwhile, Jim and Bruce both looked varying degrees of resigned. Bruce even had a small twitch to his lips to go with his head shake. But it was the brief flare of amusement in Loki's eyes that said clearer than words that Tony had taken the right approach with this. He'd had a feeling Loki would appreciate some blunt honesty and lack of skirting around the issue. Especially since he'd probably been stuck with diplomatic bullshit back home, and he'd be getting the same here. The kind of crap that was polite up front, while only barely covering up the barbed insults underneath

“You look as arrogant as ever,” Loki returned dryly. 

Tony's smirk grew. “Aw, Princess. Compliments will get you nowhere. I'm a happily taken boy now.” With his thumb, he gestured over to Bruce.

That didn't even elicit an eye twitch. Loki inclined his head respectfully in Bruce's direction, though he kept his focus on Tony. “I'm quite aware. Heimdall has brought us news of you and your family, as has Thor. May I offer my congratulations, Tony Stark, on seeing who truly matters, and finding a home worthy of you?”

Smooth. In one move, Loki let Tony know that he'd been watched, that the Asgardians likely knew more than they'd let on, and he'd also managed to compliment the New Avengers while putting down the old.

Tony studied him for a moment. Then he had to shake his head. “You know, it was a lot more comfortable hating you. I still do, sometimes. You screwed up a pretty damn good friend of mine.” Folding his arms over his chest, he gave a glare that was only half-hearted. “Quit being so damn likable.”

“Alas,” Loki put a hand over his heart and affected his most innocent, beleaguered expression. “Tis a failing of mine I simply cannot help. I must confess, it is a trial, yet it is one I must bear.”

Tony's chuckle was almost drowned out by Jim's laughter. “Oh, Jesus,” Jim said, grinning and shaking his head. “It's like there's two of you. What the hell did I do to deserve something like this?”

“I find myself wondering the same, my friend,” Thor chimed in. The temper was gone from his face; in its place was something both exasperated and fond. Tony knew the look well - he'd seen Jim wear it often enough.

Bruce twisted his hand so that he could hook his pinky finger with Tony's. The touch was a common one in their house. A silent 'I love you' and sometimes 'I'm right here, I'm with you, you're safe' as well. They used it in situations where words and other actions couldn't be used, but the gesture had come about from times when Spencer's own personal issues and his powers made any more touch than that almost impossible.

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted them. “The Council members are here and on their way up.”

Tony nodded at his words. _Right on time_. No more time for fun little banter. He curled his pinky tighter against Bruce's and drew himself together a little bit more. “Well, looks like playtime's over.” It was time to get to work.

* * *

Work was the perfect word for it. That was all Tony could think over an hour later as he sat and stared at the people in front of him and tried not to let his irritation with them show. On the inside, he focused on fantasizing about making his way home that evening. Of relaxing with his family and forgetting about stupid politics for a little while longer.

The worst part was, it wasn’t Thor or Loki that were creating the issues. Though, Tony stood by his earlier sentiment. It’d been easier when he could just flat out hate Loki. As it stood now? It was getting frighteningly easy to actually _like_ the guy. Not only was Loki proving smart and shrewd, two qualities Tony could appreciate, but he also had a razor-sharp wit that often went over the heads of those present, and he was _good_ at the whole diplomatic game. In his shoes, Tony would’ve long since blown his top. Loki? Loki kept a cool calm the entire time, no matter what was flung his way, and still managed to maneuver them a little more towards their goal.

It was impressive. Little by little the Council and the Secretary seemed to be warming up to the guy. Not much, but some. That was still quite an accomplishment for such a short period.

There were still some tempers in the room, though, that were making any headway on their treaty a bit slow going.

They were saved from things getting too bad by a wonderful interruption from JARVIS. Councilman Luke looked like he was gearing up for another ‘we can’t trust them’ speech – he was one of the biggest ones against what he considered Loki’s ‘so-called redemption,’ – when JARVIS smoothly cut in with a very polite, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you would pardon my interruption, I’d like to inform you that lunch has just arrived. If you’d like to adjourn for a small break, everything has been set up just down the hall, three doors to the left.”

Tony was too good at masks to let his surprise show, and too used to JARVIS’s involvement in managing his life. He just smiled at the room and clapped his hands together. “I think that sounds like a great idea. We could all use a bit of a break to think things over and come back with fresh heads.”

“I think he’s right,” Jim chimed in, cutting off any protests before they could form. “Why don’t we go ahead and go grab some food? I’ll show you guys where you need to go.”

With Jim rising and preparing to clearly escort them, there was no real way for anyone to argue. Tony caught his friend’s eye gratefully and resolved to give him some kind of gift later for this.

Only when they were gone - leaving Thor, Loki, and Bruce there with Tony - did Tony relax a little. He shot an amused look up at one of JARVIS’s cameras. “Smart move there, J. I don’t remember ordering lunch.”

“Young Master Stark set it up with FRIDAY before he left for his meeting with Mr. LeBeau,” JARVIS informed him.

Tony’s lips twitched despite himself. Of course it was Spencer. Of _course_. He was the worst mother hen out of the whole lot of them. The kid was absolute shit when it came to taking care of himself. But everyone else? He was too much of a caretaker. A good chunk of his life had been spent in that role. He couldn’t ever manage to shut it off completely.

When Tony looked back down, he found both Thor and Loki watching him. There was something almost like understanding on Loki’s face, weird as that was, though Thor was watching him with a bit of confusion. Tony grinned at them both. “Kids,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Your son arranged for our meal?” Thor asked him, still sounding just a bit confused.

Still smiling, Tony nodded. “Yeah. I tend to forget to eat when I get busy on something, an he knows it, so he tries to find ways around that to make sure I eat.”

Beside him, Bruce snorted, though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, really. Tony had heard the speech from him even more often than he’d heard it from Spencer. The two liked to tag-team him. It didn’t matter that they denied it! Tony knew they did! Bruce would lecture, giving Tony his full disappointed and worried frown, while Spencer would just quietly come in and arrange things in such a way that Tony was left with little option but to eat the food presented.

The soft smile that Loki was wearing grew a little warmer. “He clearly cares a great deal for you.”

There was no way Tony could hide the warmth that filled him at that. Everything about him went softer in a way that Thor had never seen on him before. “Yeah. Yeah, he does. The feeling’s pretty mutual, too.”

“Sir, if I might interrupt,” JARVIS cut in. “Young Master Stark anticipated that you four might wish to speak without the Council directly over you. The food for you, Master Banner, Mr. Odinson, and Mr. Liesmith, is set up down in the kitchen.”

 _Oh, bless his little heart!_ “Remind me to kiss that kid when we get home, Brucie Bear.” Tony shamelessly caught hold of Bruce’s hand and tugged him up while he rose. He kept Bruce there against his side and used his other hand to gesture to their two guests. “Come on, guys. Let’s go see what the brat ordered for us. He’s usually pretty good at picking out tasty stuff.”

“He knows how to entice you into actually eating the food he sends,” Bruce said fondly.

Snorting, Tony shot him a look. “Wonder where he got that from?”

The look Bruce gave him in return was as innocent as the scientist could make it. “I have no idea.”

Their laughter followed them out of the room. When the group made it to the kitchen, Tony was a little surprised by what he found, though he really shouldn’t have been. Spencer had already had all the makings of a good businessman and a great diplomat when Tony first met him, even if most people might not have realized it. He was shy, sweet, and caring, which should’ve made him terrible at being in business. Nice people didn’t last long. But he had a hell of a mask to hide it all behind. He was also smart, pretty damn shrewd, great at reading and profiling people even without his empathy, and he remembered everything.

All of that showed in the spread that was waiting for them on the kitchen table. There were plates set out, meaning that someone from the approved list had set things up instead of just delivering it, and the table seemed to have been strategically separated so that their seating was obvious and deliberate. Bruce and Tony on one side, with Thor and Loki opposite them. Tony was likely meant to be across from Thor, as their end of the table had things like steak and a great stir fry from one of Tony’s favorite restaurants. On the other end, clearly for Loki and Bruce, were a few great vegetarian dishes and plenty of pasta. If Tony remembered right, one of the things Spencer had mentioned when reading information files had been that Loki was a vegetarian. Something about him being a mage and not liking to eat animals unless necessary.

The way that Loki looked at the table said he was the only other one in the room to catch the same things Tony did. He caught Tony’s eye and gave a small, regal dip of his head, a silent acknowledgment of everything.

Tony clapped a hand on Thor’s shoulder and nudged him toward the table. “Come on, big boy. Let’s put away the politics for a bit and just enjoy some food. How’s Jane doing? I really should bring her out for another visit. I keep trying to convince her to come work for SI, but she’s holding out on me so far. I’ll get her yet, though! Mark my words!”

That broke the tiny bit of tension nicely. Tony and the others made their way to the table while Thor was regaling them with Jane’s wellbeing.

Of course, because the universe hated him, no sooner had he sat down and put the first bite of food in his mouth, JARVIS was saying “Sir, you have a phone call from Mr. LeBeau.”

Almost instantly Tony was sitting up straighter. He felt Bruce tense at his side as well. Remy was supposed to be having lunch with Spencer. What the hell was going on that he needed to call Tony for? “Patch him through.” Tony didn’t even care that Thor and Loki were still there to listen in. All his focus was on the switch in sound on the speakers that told him that JARVIS had patched in the call. “Remy? What’s going on? I thought you and Spencer were eating lunch.”

“ _Tony_.” The way that Remy said his name was enough to have Tony’s worry growing and building into a hard knot in his stomach that was threatening to reach up and wrap around his heart and his lungs and take away his ability to breathe. His next words only made that feeling worse “ _Remy t’inks y’ oughta get down here. Something... something happened to Spencer. He’s missin’._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - things begin to get serious


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Off-screen torture in this chapter

When Spencer woke up, it was to the kind of pain that he hadn’t felt in this life here, yet still remembered far too clearly. Or, at least, some of it. The body aches, the pain in his head, those were familiar, and they let him know even before he’d fully woken up that he’d been blitz attacked. There’d been... there’d been an alley, some negative emotions, and someone had... someone had taken him...

Spencer tried to push past the pain and focus. While some of the pain was familiar, there was some that wasn’t. Some that felt new and strange and _terrifying_. The whole world felt alive with pain and yet so numb all at the same time. There was a heavy, aching feeling through almost every single inch of him, though it seemed to be centered in his chest and his head. Instinctively, Spencer tried to reach out with his powers before he even opened his eyes.

Shock had Spencer’s eyes snapping wide when all he found was an aching _nothing_.

Pain had him hissing and squeezing his eyes shut again, the small light nearby still too much for his head to handle. He barely cared about that, though. Almost all his focus was internal, on the space where his powers _should_ be.

Where they _weren’t_.

This wasn’t just the feeling of having burned his energy levels too low. No, this was as if he’d burned them out entirely. There was no aching sensation or tiny little spark sitting deep inside his chest. There was just nothing. No electricity, no feelings - nothing.

Spencer hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to rely on those two things in his life. To not feel anyone, to not feel any energy, it was almost like he couldn’t breathe. His body tried to curl in on itself as if to protect against this, or to cradle the aching places inside that felt so fucking empty. Only, as he tried to, he became aware of something else. Something far more important than missing powers.

When Spencer attempted to bring his arms down, there was a hard tug against each wrist, the bite of something cold and metallic that his brain instantly identified: cuffs. Spencer’s wrists were being held above his head in cuffs!

Slowly but surely Spencer got his eyes open once more. He was prepared for the ache this time, for the blinding light that, once his head cleared a bit, really wasn’t that bright.

The profiler in Spencer came to the forefront and had him pushing away the fear and the pain. He tried to ignore the sensation that was entirely too reminiscent of his days on Dilaudid - that empty, numb, the world-can’t-touch-me feeling that had once held him down - and instead focused on _doing his job_. Spencer ran his practiced gaze around the room and took in every single detail he could. None of them helped to make him feel better.

He was being held in some kind of room. A basement, from the looks of it. There were no windows, but there was a staircase at the far wall that led up to a closed door. The rest of the room wasn’t much. There was a nearby table Spencer could just barely see, a recliner and a few boxes on the opposite end of the room from Spencer, plus an armoire of some sorts off to Spencer’s left. Otherwise, the room itself was pretty empty.

Spencer himself was lying on what he quickly found out was a bed. Not a great one, exactly, but a bed nonetheless. His hands were definitely cuffed, though in ones a bit more sturdy than typical handcuffs.

He’d been attacked in an alley by _something_ \- he wasn’t sure what - that had managed to take out his powers and knock him unconscious. Something that had _hurt_. There’d been something else, though, hadn’t there? Right at the end, when he’d been half conscious, there’d been someone there. Someone who spoke to him. They’d said...

They’d said _“Hello, Dr. Reid_.”

Oh God. _Oh God_. They knew who he was. Whoever this is, they knew who he was! They’d been there in that alley _specifically_ for Spencer. The Unsub – and that was all he could think of them as right now – had waited there with something geared to take Spencer out. To take out his powers? It would explain why they were gone. The Unsub had been there with something to take out Spencer’s powers, and they’d used his actual name.

This wasn’t just some random kidnapping or Spencer’s usual bad luck rearing its head. This was someone who had come for _him_.

That... that was infinitely more terrifying.

The sound of a door opening drew Spencer out of his internal panic. At the moment, it was probably the only thing that might’ve managed to do it. His survival instinct kicked in and all of Spencer’s focus snapped over to the staircase at the far side of the room. There was a man who was walking through the door at the top of the stairs.

Immediately, one part of Spencer’s brain started to catalog details, taking in everything he could about the Unsub.

He was tall, close to six feet, maybe six-two, and on the stocky side. He had short shaved brown hair, no facial hair, and he carried himself with the kind of bearing and confidence that was often seen in people who had a military background of some sort. It was the walk of a soldier.

He was also beaming at Spencer in a way that sent a chill down the young man’s spine.

Suddenly, all Spencer wanted to do was drag himself back as far as he could away from this man, press up against the wall as if somehow that would keep him from getting too close. The fact that Spencer could only see him, couldn’t _feel_ him, only made the panic worse. _I didn’t even sense him coming!_ If Spencer closed his eyes, he wouldn’t have even known the man was there.

“Well look who’s awake!” The man greeted when he reached the bottom of the stairs. Without hesitation, he made his way over to Spencer until he was just a foot away from the bed. He stood there and crossed his arms over his chest. Grinning, he let out another chuckle. “I have to admit, this is a lot better than I’d thought it’d be.”

There was something about the look to his face, now that he was up close... It took Spencer a full minute to place where he’d seen that face before. Once he did, his whole body went completely still. _Oh God, no wonder he knew my name._ “Alonzo Marcel.”

Alonzo’s whole face lit up. “You remember me!”

“How could I forget?” This was the man who was the whole reason that Spencer was here. The reason that he’d ended up in this universe. He was also the man who’d tortured and killed twelve boys between the ages of thirteen and seventeen and left their bodies like presents for their families to find.

Spencer looked the man over, taking in as much detail as he could. It looked like he wasn’t the only one to age down when he crossed dimensions. Alonzo looked closer to his twenties, putting him at least fifteen to twenty years younger than he’d been in their dimension. When Spencer’s eyes reached Alonzo’s face, he tried not to flinch from the cold hazel eyes watching him. _Careful_ , whispered a voice in Spencer’s head, sounding a lot like Tony. _Don’t challenge him. Remember, you look small to people, and they’ll underestimate you because of that. Don’t be afraid to use it to your advantage._

Whatever Alonzo saw on Spencer’s face had him grinning. He turned away from Spencer and began to pace down towards the young man’s feet, his voice turning almost absent as he started to speak. Most of his focus seemed to be on running his eyes down Spencer in a way that left Spencer wanting to curl up and hide. The outfit he’d worn to impress Remy didn’t quite feel like enough cover anymore. “You know, I didn’t mean for anyone to follow me,” Alonzo said. “Especially not a fed like you. Took me a while to realize you were here. Wasn’t until I saw your face on the TV. I remembered that face. Younger, sure, but I recognized you.”

The thought that Alonzo might’ve been in this world hadn’t escaped Spencer. He’d done his best to keep an eye out for signs of him; he’d even set up a program with FRIDAY to alert him if anything matching Alonzo’s profile started to show up pretty much _anywhere_. Nothing had come up anywhere, though. How had he slipped past them?

As if he were reading Spencer’s thoughts, Alonzo huffed and shook his head, looking almost sad. “I’ve had to lie low ever since then. Couldn’t exactly have you finding me before I was ready, now could I?” One hand reached out and patted Spencer’s ankle. When Spencer jerked back from the touch, the older man laughed.

Then, abruptly, that hand gripped Spencer’s ankle in a hold so tight it almost had him crying out. Any signs of good humor vanished off Alonzo’s face in one of those rapid-fire mood swings that made him so volatile.

“I’ve had to hide for _years_ because of you,” Alonzo snarled at him. He tightened his hold until if felt like the bones of Spencer’s ankle were grinding together. There was no stopping his low cry. It only served to spark a fire in Alonzo’s eyes that Spencer knew didn’t bode well for his own personal health. Keeping his hold, Alonzo leaned in, and there wasn’t much left in his eyes that could be considered sane anymore. “I had to hide, stuck playing with little back alley whores, and all the while you’ve been living it up in the lap of luxury with the richest bastard in this universe.”

He let go of Spencer’s ankle, practically throwing it down, and Spencer quickly curled in on himself. Alonzo’s moods were swinging back and forth, making him extremely dangerous. There was no telling what he was going to do.

For now, it seemed he was content to take a few steps back. A grin twisted his features and made him look even more insane.

“It took me a little while to realize that this was a blessing in disguise. I could kill two birds with one stone here. Get rid of you _and_ make myself a nice buck at the same time. There are plenty of people out there who’ll pay to have a mutant, let alone the kid of Tony fucking Stark. I sell you off, I’ll have more than enough money to go somewhere nicer than this shit hole here,” he gestured around him with one hand. “I’ll be able to buy a new identity for myself, get set up somewhere new, _and_ I won’t have to worry about you anymore. It’ll be a win-win-win for me!”

 _Oh Jesus_. Fear was a hard ball in Spencer’s stomach. He’d worked the BAU for a long time – he knew what happened to people, especially people in his age bracket, who were sold off. Not to mention, he knew what happened in this universe to _mutants_ that were sold off. Add in that he was the son of Tony Stark, someone who had a lot of enemies? There was absolutely no way this was going to go well for Spencer.

“You won’t get away with this,” Spencer said, trying and failing to sound brave. Inside, he was quivering, aching to lash out with the powers that weren’t there. “Dad won’t stop looking for me until he finds me. It doesn’t matter if you sell me or kill me. It won’t stop him from coming after you.”

The threat had no effect on the Unsub. He grinned gleefully down at Spencer. “He’ll never find you out here. No one will. You’re _mine_ now, Dr. Reid. And I think I’m going to have a lot of fun before your buyer gets here.”

Alonzo made his way towards the wall where the table was set up. The panic in Spencer’s stomach grew stronger when Alonzo turned back around to face him.

A knife glinted in his hand.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve got to play.” Smile still in place, Alonzo began to make his way towards Spencer. “They only said they wanted you alive. They didn’t say anything about being unharmed.”

The light caught on the edge of the knife’s edge, and Spencer gripped tightly to the chain between his hands. _I can survive this,_ he told himself, watching as Alonzo got closer. _I can survive this. All I’ve got to do is hang on. Dad will find me. That’s all I’ve got to do - just hang on until he can find me._

Spencer repeated that mantra as the knife came down to make the first of many cuts against his skin.

* * *

By the time Alonzo left him there, Spencer was a mess. He knew pain – had known it quite intimately, in quite a few different ways – but he hadn’t known anything like this. Not this kind of constant pain, gained for a purely sadistic glee, fueled on by every pained sound that Spencer let slip past his lips. Alonzo had played with knives and fists and his open palm, sometimes, all set on drawing blood and pain from every inch of Spencer that he could.

Holding back did nothing to discourage him. If Spencer tried not to react, Alonzo worked harder to get a reaction out of him. If Spencer gave in, hoping a reaction would entice him to move on, Alonzo only worked all the harder in that same spot to _keep_ getting those reactions.

It left Spencer bruised and bleeding and _terrified_ by the time the man was done. He’d been tortured in the past. Sadly, most agents had at some point or another. But Spencer had been tortured for a _purpose_ before. To purify him of his sins, to make him confess, to vent rage, to teach him some supposed lesson. This was different, though. This was pain simply for pain’s sake. Reacting one way or another didn’t change things. In the end, his pain was entertainment and pleasure for the one hurting him, and that was it.

The young genius only waited long enough for Alonzo to shut the door before rolling carefully onto his side, his back pressed against the wall, and curling in as best as he could. Cuts and bruises screamed at Spencer for the movement. Everything _hurt_.

He wasn’t ashamed of the tears that spilled from his eyes. Spencer had learned a long, long time ago, before he’d ever come here, that crying from pain wasn’t something that someone should be ashamed of, or that they could control. It was just what happened. Doing it in front of others, now, _that_ was a different story. But there was no one here to see as Spencer pressed his face against his arms to muffle the soft sobs that were breaking free, trying to ignore the telltale tug off the collar Alonzo had been quite happy to show off about halfway through his session. A collar that was responsible for the empty, numb feeling that wouldn’t go away.

What Spencer did feel the tiniest bit ashamed of was the small voice inside of him that wasn’t just crying for this to stop – it was crying for _Tony_. For his Dad.

Had Tony realized yet that Spencer was gone? Remy was the worrying type – he likely would’ve panicked once Spencer was late. After a little while, there was no doubt in Spencer’s mind that Remy would go and look for him. If he didn’t find him, and couldn’t reach him on his phone, it was likely he’d call Tony.

Did they know now? Were they looking for him? There was no way of telling just how long it’d been since Spencer had gone missing. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious. It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been a whole day, even. There was just no telling. Especially not in this tiny room with no clock and no windows to even see the passage of light outside that would help him mark time. Spencer was completely cut off down here. He was alone.

 _Dad will find me_. Spencer held tightly to that thought as he tucked himself in even tighter. Dad _would_ find him! Once he knew that Spencer was missing, he’d have FRIDAY and JARVIS helping him scan the city for any signs of Spencer. Maybe they’d figure out what happened, see some camera angle that would show them the ally where Spencer was taken. New York was full of cameras! If they did that, they’d have a small lead to go from, and that would be all they needed. They were a smart group – they’d be able to find him somehow. There was a whole _group_ of people who would look for Spencer! This time, it wasn’t just his team, restricted by the law in what they could do. Spencer knew Tony well enough to know he’d break any law necessary to bring Spencer home.

As pathetic as it made him feel, Spencer clung tightly to that hope. In the past he’d always ended up stepping up and saving himself. Despite how much he knew he could count on his team, he’d always had the mindset of just, doing it himself. Taking care of himself. That was what life had taught him, after all.

But Tony had taught him different. Tony had taught Spencer how to lean, how to _trust_ , and that it was okay to do so. He’d taught Spencer that there were people out there he could count on to care about him and help him.

Closing his eyes, Spencer pressed his face harder against his arm. _Please find me_ , he whispered achingly to a person he knew couldn’t hear him. _Please, please find me_.


	4. Chapter 4

Stark Tower had become Grand Central in the last hour. The Accords Council and the Secretary of Defense were gone, but police had shown up, as had some of the other Avengers. Everyone was moving and talking, all of them focused on one goal – finding Spencer and bringing him home. Or, at least, that _should’ve_ been their goal. Not everyone seemed to be fully on board with things, as Tony was discovering while he stood in the center of the Penthouse floor and did his best not to deck the asshole officer that was standing in front of him.

Things had been busy ever since Tony got that call from Remy. The instant the Cajun had said those words – “ _Remy t’inks y’ oughta get down here. Something... something happened to Spencer. He’s missin’._ ” – fear had been a hard ball in Tony’s gut.

They’d done the logical things first. JARVIS and FRIDAY scanned city cameras and tracked Spencer from the instant he arrived in the city, right up until he went into an alley and suddenly all cameras seemed to go on the fritz. Whatever had happened there, it’d taken out the cameras. That could’ve been in reaction to Spencer using his powers, though usually, those kind of results would’ve been on a wider scale. But they had no idea.

Tony wanted nothing more than to race out and there and take a look. It’d been Bruce who pointed out that they shouldn’t waste that kind of time. “Remy’s right there. Have him go check the alley. You should stay here and work with JARVIS, see if maybe you can find something that shows anyone else who went into that alley.”

And they had. They’d found one guy who’d entered the alley twenty minutes earlier – _setting up there, waiting for Spencer, the bastard was waiting for him!_ – only, when JARVIS cleaned up the image, the guy’s face didn’t come up in any database.

They had to do things the legal way, if at all possible. Tony had to try and do everything right to find out what happened to his son and bring him home. That meant that, as soon as Tony knew for sure that Spencer had been taken, and had a face for who’d done it, he called not only the police, he spoke with the Council to get it approved for the Avengers to look - and then he’d called in his team.

The police got here first, and Tony was forced to make his report over and over. To put up with some assholes who were making thinly veiled comments about how maybe, just _maybe_ , Spencer had decided to go off and have some fun, that he was following in his playboy father’s footsteps and was out partying, or other things like that. The officer that Tony was talking to sure seemed to think that. He wasn’t shy about voicing it, either, though he wrapped it up in a sleazy-double talk that had Tony fighting not to growl at him.

“Spencer didn’t _run off to party_ ,” Tony repeated, his voice as cold as ice. “Like I said, he was on his way to have coffee with one of his best friends. He’s not the type to just not show up. Not without a really good reason and a phone call to explain it.”

“Your son’s a mutant, Mr. Stark, correct?” The officer asked.

Immediately, Tony tensed. His spine snapped straight and his gaze sharpened into a glare that was full of threat and warning. Everything about him was screaming out _watch it_ to anyone with eyes. “Yes.” They hadn’t hidden that; not ever. Spencer didn’t want to hide it. They didn’t announce it, but they didn’t hide it either.

The officer – his tag read Roger, and wasn’t _that_ some strange, uncomfortable pile of bullshit, that _this_ was the guy Tony had to deal with – didn’t flinch from the glare that Tony was wearing. “With whatever powers he has, the chances that this one single person you show was able to take him out...”

“You mean the same person who was somehow able to take out all the cameras in the surrounding area?” Tony cut in sharply.

The officer held up his hands briefly in a gesture of peace. “I’m just saying...”

“Oh, I think I'm starting to get a pretty clear picture here, Officer Roger, and I really hope I’m wrong. Cause, you know, it sounds to me like you’re trying to make my son out to be some bad guy here when he’s _clearly_ the victim.” Tony clenched his hands into fists at his side, and he took a step forward, the temper he’d been fighting with pushing hard to finally break free. “It sounds to me like you’re _just saying_ that Spencer’s not worth your time to find just because he’s a mutant and a Stark. Never mind that he’s a _seventeen-year-old boy_ who went into an alley with someone and never came back out.” Any signs of civility disappeared off of Tony’s face, and his eyes flashed hot and bright when he leaned in close. “Listen here, asshole. I don’t care what his name is, or what grudge you have against the Starks or mutants or _whatever else_. If you’re not going to help find him – _get the hell out of my tower_.”

There was no telling how much worse that moment might’ve become if it hadn’t been for Bruce. He’d been off on the side of the room talking with Loki and Thor, both of whom had stuck around, but as soon as Tony started raising his voice, Bruce was on his way over.

He caught Tony’s hand as soon as he was close to him. “Tony, hey.” Using his hold on Tony’s hand, Bruce drew him back away from the officer, pulling him in close. Tony resisted only for a second before he let himself melt in against his partner. Bruce wrapped one arm around Tony’s waist and brought his other hand up to cup his cheek, drawing him in until their foreheads were touching. It was a lot more intimate a pose than they usually would’ve done in front of anyone but family. Neither one cared at the moment.

Tony pressed his forehead a bit harder against Bruce’s and let his eyes drift closed. He soaked up the warmth of Bruce’s body holding his up, the gentle touch that stroked lightly over his cheek.

“Take a deep breath,” Bruce murmured to him. “We’ll find him, Tony. You know that. We’re going to find him.”

Shaking hands came up to grip at Bruce’s hips. The touch was grounding for Tony; it was something that, pre-Spencer, he wouldn’t have let himself take. Wouldn’t have let himself believe it was _okay_ to take. Having Spencer in their lives had taught them all how to change and grow a little. Not just because of his empathy, either, but because of who he was as a person. Those two combined had brought a huge change to the lives of everyone Spencer spent time with. Tony had learned a lot about accepting his own feelings, and the touches that went with them.

Those touches right now were holding Tony together when he felt like he might break apart. “Someone took him.” Tony drew in a shaky breath and blew it back out slowly, hating how it trembled. But he couldn’t deny his fear; not when he was right here with Bruce. “They took him, Bruce. He wouldn’t just leave like this without saying something.”

“I know.”

“What the hell did they do to him to get him out of there? It looked like just one guy in there – Spencer could handle one guy. What’d they do to our boy?”

Bruce tilted his head and rubbed his nose against Tony’s. He didn’t pull away, nor did he raise his voice. Just kept on holding Tony and speaking in that same low, soothing tone. “I don’t know. But we’ll find them, and we’ll get him back. And then we’ll show them why no one touches our family.” There was just a hint of a growl to those last words. The Hulk, peeking through. He was more than a little protective of their kids.

The two might’ve stayed there a little longer if a new voice hadn’t broken through the crowd and drawn their attention.

“Get de hell outta m’ way!” snarled a familiar Cajun voice. “Remy don’t give a flyin’ fuck who de hell y’ t’ink y’ are, mec. _Move_!”

Tony and Bruce both pulled back at the same exact time. As Tony turned towards that voice, he took note of how the cops had drawn back from him and Bruce, likely in response to the two demigods who were standing a few feet away like a silent barrier. Not many would want to make their way past Thor’s bulk; let alone Loki’s silently threatening form.

Past them, Tony could clearly see as Remy was facing off against five different police officers, all of whom looked ready to draw their weapons. The fact that Remy wasn’t wearing his sunglasses probably only added to that. His red and black eyes were glowing with barely banked fury, and he was radiating threat in a palpable aura.

Tony resisted the urge to sigh. At least he’d had time to get calm here with Bruce before dealing with another temper in the room. Especially one like Remy’s. It took a lot to bring it out – harming kids, or people he cared about, was a fast way to do it – but when it came out, it was _dangerous._ These officers wouldn’t know what hit them. With that in mind, Tony broke away from Bruce and hurried forward. “Hey, it’s all right, he’s clear,” Tony called out as he went. If he didn’t diffuse this quickly, he had no doubt Remy would eventually stop talking and blast them out of his way.

Devil eyes shot straight for Tony. As soon as the Cajun laid eyes on him, Remy was moving, brushing past the officers who were reluctantly drawing back. “Stark.” In a flash, Remy was tossing something his way.

Tony felt a wave of love for Bruce when his partner easily stepped in and caught the item for him, and then passed it over to him. Tony’s dislike of being handed things still counted when they were being tossed his way.

Then Tony got a look at what it was he was holding, and his stomach clenched. _Spencer’s phone_. This was Spencer’s phone. Dead, the screen cracked, but it was _his_. Tony recognized the case that Clint had given to him as a joke, with Spiderman and Volt in Chibi form, hanging out in a web hammock. Clint had been teasing when he’d bought the phone case, but Spencer had put it on there, and he’d grinned each time he saw it. The way Peter had laughed the first time he’d caught sight of it had been great, too.

Staring down at the phone took the last shred of Tony’s hope and shredded it. _Someone had taken Spencer. Someone had taken his son._

The fear felt like it was going to eat him alive. Through sheer force of will, Tony somehow managed to force it back, shoving it down deep. Panicking wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Standing around shaking and scared wouldn’t bring Spencer back home. Right now, Tony needed to be Iron Man. He needed to use his head to find a way to _bring Spencer back home_. Once he had his kid back, _then_ he could panic. Then he could hold Spencer close and reassure himself that the kid was all right. Until then, he needed to stop cowering, stop panicking, and _man up_.

The look in Tony’s eyes was hard when they locked on Remy once more. “Where’d you find this?”

“In de alley, kicked under de dumpster,” Remy answered immediately.

“Whoever took him, they were waiting for him.” Looking down at the phone he held, Tony let all the information run through his head, trying to piece it together. “They set up an ambush there. This asshole, they knew him well enough to know how to draw him in there, off his route, and how to take him out quickly once they did.”

Tony was surprised when JARVIS cut in. “Sir... I might have an answer to that.”

That – that didn’t sound good. JARVIS’s voice was hesitant. He was _never_ hesitant. Tony clenched down on the phone in his hand and took a deep, steadying breath. Bruce’s hand found Tony’s free one and held on. Everyone around them was quiet, all eyes watching as Tony said: “What is it, J?”

“Based off of the condition of the Young Master’s phone and the lack of camera footage, if this were any other case I would suggest... an EMP of some sorts.”

Shock hit Tony hard and fast. He vaguely heard Remy cursing, but he felt Bruce go instantly tense beside him, and he knew his partner was thinking the same thing he was. In a flash, Tony was squeezing Bruce’s hand while loudly snapping out “Out.” All eyes turned to him, but Tony old had eyes for the police and strangers in his home. “Everyone who’s not Avengers or family, out. This just became official Avengers business.”

“Mr. Stark...” someone tried to say.

Tony was having none of it. “I don’t care who you are or what you have to say. Five minutes ago you were still pretending Spencer had run off to party and fuck somewhere. Now, I still own this tower, I invited you in here, and now I’m telling you to _get out_.”

Thank God for Jim. For a moment, Tony had almost forgotten the presence of the other Avengers. He was reminded of them now as Jim stepped forward and called out “Gentlemen” in a that sharp, leader voice he’d perfected in the military. Using that voice, Jim took charge of the police, getting them out the door with firm commands and careful apologies.

As soon as the elevator doors shut behind them, Tony was breaking free from Bruce and cursing loudly.

An EMP! Someone had used a goddamn _EMP_ on an electric based mutant! There was no telling _what_ kind of reaction Spencer would’ve had to that! They’d done everything in their power to keep Spencer far away from any kind of blast like that ever since he’d joined with them, just the same as they kept Tony’s suit away from them. For someone to use one on him... just the thought of it made Tony shudder.

“We need t’ call in Henri,” Remy said suddenly. “ _Je suis desole,_ M. Banner, _mais_ , dere aint no one else out dere y’ can trust on mutant physiology more dan him. Spencer’s gonna need him when we get him back.”

“Yeah, no, of course.” Bruce waved off any apology. There was a faint green tinge to his eyes and his face, and he was very carefully flattening his palms against his legs in a gesture he only did when he was really, _really_ upset.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment and fought with all his experience to take control of himself. Only when he was sure that he was going to stay steady did he open his eyes again. “All right, here’s what we’re gonna do.” There was an air of command to him as he moved towards the center of the room. One that hadn’t been there once and that clearly surprised Thor. Thor was more used to someone else taking charge, with Tony throwing out ideas or bucking against it the whole way, him and Steve constantly ramming heads. He’d never seen Tony step up to the plate like this and take complete charge of a room with absolute confidence – and have everyone respond accordingly.

“Remy, I want you to call and report back home, let them know what’s going on. I imagine Logan’s going to want to be out here, and we’ll use all the help we can get. If Dr. McCoy can be on standby for us, that’d be great. I won’t take Spencer there when we get him - he’ll need the safety of a familiar place, especially since we have no idea what condition he’ll be in - but any help we can get will be appreciated.”

Even as Tony spoke, Remy was nodding his head. As soon as he had his orders, the Cajun was striding towards the side of the room, his phone already in his hand.

That left Tony free to turn to Jim next. “I need you to go grab Peter for me. If this is personal and something against Spencer, there’s a chance someone might go after people he cares about. If this is because of me, Peter’s at risk, too. We need him safe and home, if at all possible.”

“Got it,” Jim said.

That left Bruce, Thor, and Loki. Tony looked over at his partner and held a hand out Bruce’s way, waiting patiently until Bruce finally felt comfortable enough to reach back to him. Tony gentled his voice for this part; he knew Bruce wasn’t going to like it. “I need you to head back to the Compound and get things ready for us there. Right now, we can’t risk the Big Guy coming out to smash and having nothing to take his temper out on. I need you to make sure that the Med Bay is ready for whatever we might need, and that we’ve got our wing on a level 6 lockdown, with Hangover Protocols ready to go.”

It was clear Bruce didn’t like being sent away. This was his family, too – his _son_ too, in many ways – and he wanted to help. But he also recognized where he’d best be able to help. Curling his fingers a bit tighter around Tony’s, he nodded. “You’ll call me when you know something.”

That wasn’t a question, yet Tony still answered it quickly. “Yeah. You better believe it.”

The two shared one brief kiss, packed full of all the things they couldn’t say right then, and then Bruce was going. Heading back to try and prepare for the worst.

Tony stood there for a moment and watched Bruce go. “J, where are the others?”

“Mrs. Barton has the kids in your wing for safety purposes and is awaiting a call with any news, should you have any. Mr. Barton is en route and will arrive within the next three-point-five minutes. Ms. Danvers has the trainee Avengers on standby in their wing, with warnings not to leave for the immediate future. I’ve also taken the liberty of contacting Ms. Walters and Ms. Van Dyne and putting them on standby. Ms. Potts and Happy are on their way to Mrs. Parker’s residence and will let us know as soon as they’re secure.”

That was perfect. As soon as Jim had Peter, everyone would be present and accounted for. They’d all be safe. That would leave Tony free to focus more on Spencer.

“What would you have us do, Stark?” Thor asked, cutting into Tony’s private thoughts.

He turned to find that Thor and Loki were both still there, and both watching him. Neither one had left once this entire time, and now Thor was offering to help? It probably shouldn’t have surprised him, yet it did. The Avengers had been without Thor for a little while now and without any real allies. Even though Thor was here today to work out a treaty between Earth and Asgard, and to deal with the Accords, there’d been a part of Tony that hadn’t quite been able to believe that Thor was really going to come back to a team without Steve on it.

Yet Thor was looking at him now and was clearly awaiting orders. Just as weird, Loki was doing the same.

There was one thing that Tony could think of, only it involved letting out a secret Tony wasn’t quite sure he was willing to let out. He bit at his lip as he tried to think of a way to phrase it without giving anything away. “In the past few years, we’ve had some issues with... dimension travel. People coming to our universe from alternate ones.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up. “That takes quite a bit of power to accomplish.”

The fact that Loki seemed to know something about this - that he acted as if it were common knowledge, albeit dangerous, was something Tony vowed to think about later. For now, he just wiped a hand over his face and sighed. “Yeah. The one we’ve dealt with so far, they didn’t have a duplicate of themselves here in our universe, and quite a few people they knew in their own weren’t here in ours. This guy,” A wave of Tony’s hand and JARVIS brought up the picture they’d gotten from the video feeds before the cameras were killed. “I don’t know if he’s from our universe or not, or if he’s just that much of a ghost, but he’s not showing up in any database anywhere. I’ve had JARVIS looking everywhere. Even in the SHIELD files, we’re supposed to pretend don’t still exist. He’s not showing up anywhere.”

“You think he might also be from another universe,” Thor said, nodding just a little like he was in agreement.

Loki made a low humming sound. “If this person is in possession of magic, a necessary requirement to travel this way, they would leave behind traces of themselves in that alley. I could go and take a look, see if I might be able to detect anything.”

That... that would be perfect. So long as the person wasn’t someone accidentally here the way that Spencer was, and if they actually _were_ a dimension-traveler... it was a huge ‘what if’, but it wasn’t one that Tony could afford to overlook. Nor could he afford to just simply send Loki out into the city and not expect repercussions. Rubbing his hands together, he thought for a moment. “We should call up Strange, have him go with you. Not that I don’t trust you for this – because I’m surprised as hell to find I actually kind of do, which is all sorts of weird. But with the Accords and the treaty still up in the air...”

“...it is safer this way,” Loki finished for him. He nodded his understanding, and, really, the way he looked said that he actually _did_ understand. “It’s quite fine, Stark. Summon your Strange and I shall accompany him there.”

That left Tony and Thor to try and figure out something to do. What do you do when there’s only so much of a lead you can go on? There was nothing for Thor to fight against, no one to question, no one left here to command. It was just Thor, Tony, and Remy who were going to be left in the tower while the others went about doing their best to find their missing member and bring him home.

Remy, once he was done with his phone call, was the one to give Tony some purpose. He came over to him and carefully nudged Tony over towards the living room, distracting him as he did. “De Professor said he’s gonna take a look around, see what he can find. Wolvie’s on his bike, an it’s about an hour drive, so give him like half dat an he’ll be here. He’s gonna stop by de alley, see if he can’t catch de scent an follow it. Right now, we need y’ to do y’r t’ing and work de computers.”

“I can’t find him,” Tony said flatly, letting himself be led down to sit on the couch. “I just... he doesn’t exist.”

Remy made a low huffing sound. He reached past Tony to grab a tablet off the coffee table and then dropped it down into his lap. “Remy’s gonna forget dat one, cause y’ aint exactly thinking straight right now, cher.” Leaning in, he tapped one finger on the screen, drawing Tony’s eyes to it. “Y’ backtracked enough to find de _connard_ going into de alley. Use dat. Lock on dat face an track him back further. Did he drive a car dere? Take a cab? Can y’ trace de cab, maybe? How’d he get dere, Stark? Huh? Can y’ find where he was comin’ from?”

The slew of questions that Remy threw out in front of him had Tony going absolutely still. They were all questions he should’ve already been thinking of - already had the fucking answers to, Goddammit! Remy was right. He _wasn’t_ thinking clearly.

Caught up in his thoughts, he missed the way Remy smirked as he straightened back up. Tony was too busy reaching out to his tablet and powering it on. His mind was spinning with possibilities.

Remy gave a nod when he saw Tony start to work. Content in the knowledge that the man was working hard toward finding Spencer, Remy turned to try and do his part, at least while he waited for some of his shadier contacts to get back to him. He turned to Thor and flashed the big guy a smile. “C’mon, _monsieur._ We’re gonna be Grand Central Station soon enough, once everyone starts reportin’ in. Might as well get de coffee on, yeah? M’ Tante always taught me dat coffee ‘n tea help make everything a little bit better.”


	5. Chapter 5

Spencer wasn’t sure how long it was that the Unsub left him downstairs. Long enough that a few problems became rather pressing ones. Problems that he couldn’t exactly ignore. Eventually, he had to move his aching body, forcing every sore part of him to push upwards until he could sit up by the head of the bed. There, he was able to get his hands in close enough to unhook his pants. After that, it was just a matter of shifting towards the edge of the bed and aiming carefully.

Sitting up was also enough to help pull Spencer at least a little bit out of the numbness that was gripping him. He was terrified to realize just how long he’d been simply lying here without doing anything. This was worse than even his lowest points while on the Dilaudid. Or just his lowest points, _period_. Spencer had been through depression before – he’d fought that war many times in his life. This? This was like the worst depression he’d ever felt, multiplied.

The world felt empty and blank around him. Like he was wrapped up in thick heavy wool and unable to move. The itchy bedspread under him, the dried blood on it, those barely even registered with him when normally they would’ve been driving him mad. He’d just been laying here, unable to bring himself to really move until he was at the point of almost wetting his pants.

 _Knock it off!_ he snarled at himself. _So what if your powers are gone. Suck it up and wake up! You can’t just wait around for Dad to come in and rescue you. Try and get yourself out of here!_

The first step to that was taking a moment to look at the cuffs that held him. Picking locks wasn’t hard for Spencer, so long as he had the right tools. Right then he didn’t exactly have tools, but he wouldn’t be able to get the right ones if he didn’t know what he was working with.

Unfortunately, what he was working with was a pretty damn good set of cuffs. The chain for them was hooked down underneath the head of the bed, it looked like, and the actual cuffs were thick and strong. Picking them wouldn’t be easy. Not even with a proper lockpick set. The bed itself looked pretty sturdy, too. It’d definitely held up to Spencer’s twitching and thrashing before.

Spencer shook those thoughts away. There wasn’t time for thinking about that. He could deal with that later. Right now...

The door at the top of the staircase creaked before opening, and Spencer snapped his gaze up to it.

... right now, he needed to focus on staying alive long enough to figure out a way to get out of here.

That meant he really and truly needed to be a profiler right now. The BAU team had studied Alonzo back in their world. Coupling that with what Spencer was able to observe now, he needed to use the profile to try and help him somehow.

First things first – he needed to play up to the guy’s fantasy. Spencer curled himself in a little more and leaned against the wall by the headboard. He tilted his head down until his hair acted as a screen against the bruise he knew stood out on his face. The rest of him was compacted into a small ball that would make him look even younger than he was. Everything about him was set to appeal to the Unsub.

It worked, too. Spencer might not have been able to feel the man’s interest, but he could see it in the dilation of his pupils. Hear it in the way he sucked in a sharp breath. _You profiled people long before you had empathy. Use that now._

Alonzo let his eyes run over Spencer when he got close to him. There was pleased look in his eyes at seeing the young boy so clearly scared of him, all his injuries on display. “Good afternoon, Dr. Reid! And how are we enjoying our accommodations today?”

The effort it took to keep his sarcasm locked behind his teeth surprised Spencer. A side effect of living with such smart-ass people, he supposed. He had to swallow down his first instinctive words and remind himself that he was supposed to be playing a part. Young, scared – exactly what the Unsub needed him to be. Spencer put a quiver into his voice that he hoped showed the right amount of fear. “Please,” he drew in a shaky breath and let it back out slowly. “Please. I need… I need to go to the bathroom.”

Just a second was all it took for Spencer to see that he’d played this right. At least for right now. Alonzo grinned, and there was a slight widening of his eyes, a flaring of his nostrils, that showed how pleased he was. “Well, well, well.” Alonzo strolled up to Spencer’s bedside and crossed his arms over his chest, smirking down at him. “The great Dr. Reid – Dr. _Stark_ – reduced to begging after just one day. Who would’ve guessed it, huh?”

Spencer didn’t let himself rise to the bait. He just blinked up, letting his wide eyes show the fear that he felt.

It only made Alonzo grin even more. “If only your Daddy could see you now, he’d see the same thing I’ve always seen. He’d see just how _weak_ you really are, Dr. Reid.”

The glee in Alonzo’s voice showed just how much he’d like that. Spencer’s mind leapt on the possibility of that. On the one hand, he didn’t want Tony to know anything about what happened while Spencer was down here. He didn’t want his father to see him like this. Oh, sure, he knew Tony wouldn’t judge him for it. Tony would never judge him for this. But that didn’t mean that Spencer wanted him to witness it. However, on the other hand, if Alonzo really tried to _show_ this to Tony, that’d mean he’d have to send a video to him. The things that Tony, JARVIS, and FRIDAY could do with a video…

Deliberately, Spencer flinched, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, letting his jaw quiver a little. He finally croaked out the word “ _No_.” The young genius let out a shaky breath and curled his hands into fists. “Don’t… don’t. He can’t… don’t do that to him, please!”

The words were just right, the actions were right, but Spencer had forgotten a few important variables. He’d forgotten to factor in just how truly dead he felt inside, and how much that was showing on the outside – and he’d forgotten how much Alonzo had studied him already. How much the man knew about Spencer’s job and what it meant.

The amusement on Alonzo’s face abruptly transformed to rage. There wasn’t a chance for Spencer to do more than open his mouth before he was cut off by a backhanded blow that sent him flying back. A gasp tore past Spencer’s lips at the shock and the pain, and his eyes shot upwards in just enough time to see Alonzo dart forward.

A hand closed around Spencer’s throat and drew him up as far as his cuffed arms would allow, only to slam him against the wall. Spencer tried to kick his legs out, to swing his hands, but he had no leverage, and his arms were stretched tight. Alonzo easily overpowered him. He kept his hand pressing against Spencer’s throat while he threw a leg up, pinning Spencer’s legs down on the bed.

Raw fury lit the older man’s eyes. “Don’t play your fucking mind games with me, you little shit. I’m not some stupid bad guy you can twist around your fucking finger, you hear me? I’m a sorcerer!” He leaned in and pressed his hand even harder until Spencer couldn’t draw in a breath, he couldn’t _breathe_! “I’m more powerful than you’ll ever even hope to be, an I’m the one in control here, not you. I suggest you remember that.”

He let go just as quickly as he’d grabbed on, drawing back and leaving Spencer free to slump down onto the bed and gasp for breath.

Spencer lay there, trying to get his abused throat to work again, as Alonzo stormed from the room, hitting something on the wall and plunging the room into darkness as he went.

The darkness had Spencer’s eyes snapping open wide. A low whine built in the back of his throat without him even realizing it.

There were no windows in here, which meant that no light whatsoever was getting into the room. It was completely and totally dark. Spencer felt his heart begin to pound once more. His eyes were pushed as wide open as he could get them as if somehow he might be able to see _something_ , and he was straining to catch any sound. Any creak, any hint of breathing, _anything_ that might clue him in if something was coming towards him. How was he supposed to see if something was coming after him in this?

Spencer barely even registered how he was pressing himself back along the wall. Eventually, he pushed himself into the corner. There was nowhere else for him to go. There, he curled his legs in, bringing his knees to his chest, and he drew his arms up to his chest as well. The chains from his wrists rattled and echoed, making Spencer’s heart give an extra lurch. The aching heaviness that he’d been feeling inside of him now seemed to be on the outside as well. That dark, weighted feeling, as if he’d been wrapped in a blanket, was slowly coming back with each second he was trapped here in the dark, and it felt like it was smothering him. Taking away any chance that Spencer had to breathe.

Without even realizing it at first, Spencer began to rock himself, a self-soothing gesture he’d once tried so hard to hide. There, tucked into the corner of his bed, rocking himself in the same way that Tony would sometimes rock him at night after a nightmare, Spencer let out a shaky, painful breath, and he started to hum.

The humming made his throat burn, made it throb, yet he welcomed that pain. It was the only thing that seemed to cut through the heaviness that was pressing down on him. Spencer hummed and let the pain of his throat and the memories that tune invoked wash over him, anchoring him in the here and now. If he focused enough, he swore he could feel Tony’s arms around him, feel the way they’d hold him close when Spencer was at his most scared.

In his memories, Spencer curled against Tony’s chest, right overtop his heartbeat, and the sound soothed him almost as much as the vibrations of his humming, and the low promise of his words. _You’re all right, Firefly. You’re safe. I got you._

Spencer held tight to that memory and let it soothe him as best as it could in this dark little hell.

* * *

Trying to track the Unsub backward didn’t work as well as Tony had hoped it would. JARVIS tracked him to a vehicle, but they lost him when the car left the city, and the car itself was stolen, so there was nothing there to really lead them back to anyone. The image they’d gotten of the guy who took Spencer was being circulated just about everywhere. If there was _anyone_ who might be able to help find him, they were asking.

On top of that, Tony was doing his best to search enemies, see if there was anyone he could find that would have a serious enough grudge against him or Spencer. Unfortunately, with Tony being Tony, that meant there was a pretty good sized list.

Tony could feel the tension building inside himself with each passing minute. Every second, every _hour_ , was another moment that Spencer was stuck somewhere with this asshole, whoever he was. There was no telling what he was doing to Spencer, or why he’d taken him. All they could do was guess and hope and wonder. None of those were things that Tony was comfortable doing when the life of his _son_ was on the line.

It was making him short and irritable, and he knew it. He just didn’t care.

Luckily for Tony, he was surrounded by people who knew better than to take his sharp words to heart. Logan was a gruff bastard all on his own, so having Tony be the same didn’t bother him, and it didn’t change how he spoke with Tony. Not that he was there much as it was. He and Remy and the other X-Men were out doing their own search through the city while Tony stayed behind to keep on searching this way.

Surprisingly, though, it was Loki who ended up the recipient of Tony’s temper more often than not – he seemed to have decided to set himself up close to Tony ever since he’d come back from looking the scene over with Stephen, claiming that Tony’s presence was easy to work beside as Spencer’s energy was tied in with his.

The mage didn’t flinch when Tony snapped at him. He didn’t argue with him when Tony’s temper got the best of him, and he acted like an asshole.

Tony couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It had him sneaking a look at the meditating mage beside him while waiting for one program to finish its search.

“Can I help you, Stark?” Loki asked, not even bothering to open his eyes. _Snarky little bastard_.

“Why are you sitting with me?” The words were blunt and hard-edged, yet Tony didn’t care. “An don’t give me that bullshit about mine and Spencer’s energy or whatever. I’m not an idiot. You’ve practically set yourself up as my guard dog here, and it doesn’t make sense. I don’t like things that don’t make sense.” Especially not right now when everything seemed to no longer make sense.

There was a long pause in which Tony wasn’t sure that Loki was going to actually end up answering him. When he did, what he had to say wasn’t what Ton was expecting.  “I’m a parent, too, Stark. Unfortunately, I also know the feeling of having my children taken from me. Your rage is far more controlled than mine ever was.” Those bright green eyes opened, and fire flashed bright and hot in their depths. In there, Tony could see old pain, the kind that never left you alone, and a broken edge that Tony was terrified to realize he recognized. He felt an echo of it inside himself right now.

Tony stared up at him for a long moment. Then, surprising even himself, he said: “Tony.”

Confusion marred Loki’s brow. The fire vanished, and he drew his eyebrows down, cautiously watching Tony’s face. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re here in my house, helping me get my kid back, and listening to me bitch at you. I’m pretty sure you can call me Tony.”

The slow, hesitant smile that ghosted over Loki’s lips drew an answering smile out of Tony. It was the first time he’d smiled since this whole mess had started. In the back of his mind, Tony knew that Spencer would be a bit proud of him right now for putting aside his own issues and making friends with someone who had once been an enemy. Spencer believed in second chances. Third. Fourth. A _million_ , really. He always seemed to believe that everyone could be saved so long as there was any spark of humanity left inside of them. At the same time, he knew – better than most out there – that there were monsters out there in the world. Not the kind of monsters in stories, or the kind that the press tried to make mutants out to be, but real monsters hidden underneath the masks of humanity.

A shiver ran down Tony’s spine. Whoever had Spencer right now, they were one of those monsters, and while Spencer might believe in giving a person another chance, there were some lines that Tony believed you couldn’t ever come back from crossing. This right here? This was one of them.

He was going to get Spencer back home. And if he had to burn down everything this bastard had straight to the ground, well, he damn well wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.

* * *

Time passed by in strange spurts for Spencer. He had no idea how long it’d been since he’d been left down there in the dark. Panic had a way of warping the world, and the darkness around him only made it worse.

Eventually, Alonzo came back, and he turned the light back on when he did. But he didn’t stick around. He didn’t even stay to mock Spencer’s very blatant relief at no longer being in the dark. Alonzo stayed only long enough to throw a tray of food down on the bed. “Eat,” he ordered the teen, his tone dark and full of warning. “Can’t have you dying before we’re done with you, can we?” And with nothing more than that, he’d turned and walked away, leaving Spencer once more alone.

There was a big part of Spencer that really wanted to just ignore the food. It was the same part of him that felt as if it were slowly being smothered by the heavy weight that was settling over him more and more the longer that his powers were blocked away. The longer he was trapped _here_. But Spencer was a fighter. He wasn’t the type to just lay down here and give up. Though he might not fight the way that people expected, he’d always been the type to fight back in his own way, to keep on going. Push through whatever he was feeling and force one foot to keep moving in front of the other.

That was what had him moving now. Drawing himself up, he used his legs to nudge the tray closer so that his hands could reach, and he forced himself to pick at the sandwich the guy had given him. It was simple – cheese, bread, and meat – and Spencer checked it over first to see if there was anything extra he might be able to sense. Only when he was as sure as he could be that there wasn’t anything wet or different smelling about any of it did he finally start to eat.

Piece by piece he took the sandwich apart and ate it a little at a time. It felt mechanical; something that had to be done. The fact that he hadn’t felt his own hunger, that he still didn’t feel it, should’ve worried Spencer. As it was, making himself eat was taking all his energy, and when he was done, he didn’t have the strength for much else.

Alone, Spencer curled himself up into a ball and tried to prepare himself to rest. _Just hang on_ , he reminded himself. _You can do this, just hang on._

The cold emptiness that was growing inside of him with each passing hour made it hard to hold on to anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Seven days. Seven goddamn days had gone by since Spencer had gone missing. With each passing day, each _hour,_ Tony felt like he was slowly going insane. His son was somewhere out there right now going through God only knew what, and there wasn’t a damn thing that Tony could seem to be able to do to bring him back home. Everything they tried got them nowhere.

The whole team had banded together for this. They’d even brought Peter back, just to keep him safe.

 _That_ hadn’t been an easy moment.

Tony had been working when Jim finally brought Peter in, sifting through information with JARVIS to try and find a way to do, well, _anything_. It’d been the first day, so he’d still been hopeful. When JARVIS let him know that Peter was there, Tony hadn’t hesitated to go to him. And it’d been a damn good thing, too. Tony knew he was never going to forget the image he found when he walked into the room and saw Peter sitting on the couch. The kid had had his hands pressed flat between his knees, and his head bowed down so that his shaggy hair hid the tears building in his eyes. Seeing that, Tony had lifted one hand and brushed a bit of Peter’s hair back. Then he’d let his hand settle against the curve of Peter’s neck. “We’ll find him, kid.”

“Why would somebody want him?” The way that Peter had chewed on his bottom lip and looked up at Tony, an open plea for the adult in his life to help him understand this, to make it better, had been heartbreaking. “Spencer’s like… he’s the nicest person you’d ever meet. Why would someone want to take him? It’s gotta mean they want him for something, right? If they just wanted to, to hurt him or k-kill him, they would’ve just done it, right? That means they want something. Right?”

That hopeful sound in Peter’s voice was something that Tony hadn’t been able to extinguish. There was no way he could explain to the kid the multiple possibilities here, or how bad all of them could turn out. Even if it was just someone wanting something from Spencer, that didn’t mean that what he was going through would be easy. Tony knew that from experience.

He didn’t tell Peter that, though. He just wrapped the kid up in a hug and held on while Peter broke down in fear for the person who was like a brother to him.

Once Peter was calm, he was all for helping them, and no one could convince him otherwise. He wanted to help bring Spencer home.

Tony hated it. He hated all of it so fucking much. Spencer being gone, having to let Peter help, being helpless to do much else. This whole situation was one that Tony had known was possible, considering the lives they led, and yet he’d hoped with every fiber of his being that they’d never have to experience it.

Being kidnapped himself was one thing. He’d been through that kind of pain before, and he knew he’d rather suffer that a hundred times over than to sit here while his boy went through it. Spencer was smart, Tony knew, and brave, and strong, and so many other things, but he was still a kid. Even if he was actually an adult inside, he was still a kid. One who already had issues with touch, and with letting people get close. What was this going to do to him in the long run?

Those questions and so many more were constantly swirling in Tony’s mind. He stood on the penthouse floor of Stark Tower – what had become their hub for their Spencer-search – and stared out the window at the storm clouds that were building, question after question plaguing his mind. Countless worries sprang up, and he couldn’t seem to fight them back down. Not even when he felt Bruce press up against his side.

Bruce, bless his beautiful soul, had been the rock that Tony needed in this. Though Tony knew he was just as worried, and just as scared, he’d been strong and steady for Tony every step of the way. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t had his moments of weakness or his fears. He’d simply treated them like they weren’t actually weaknesses. Like it somehow made him stronger for sharing them with Tony. It made it easier for Tony to let himself feel just a little bit weak.

Pressing in close, Bruce rested his head against Tony’s shoulder, staring out through the window with him. “We’ll find him, Tone.”

The simple promise in those words wasn’t quite enough to quell the fear that was eating away at Tony. He slipped his arm around Bruce and held on, needing the contact. “I keep asking myself all these questions. I just… I can’t get them to stop. Where is he? What’s he doing right now? What is that bastard doing to him? Is he warm? He’s always so fucking cold. Are they feeding him enough?” Letting out a shaky breath, Tony brought up his free hand and wiped it over his mouth. “And I keep wondering about how they’re holding him. He would’ve used his powers to get free now if he could. Is he… did they collar him?” That thought made Tony sick. It churned through his stomach and left him aching and wanting to gag.

“I hope they did.”

The soft admission startled Tony out of his head. His body jerked, and he shot a look of stunned shock over at Bruce. “ _What_?”

Bruce didn’t flinch, didn’t break his gaze away from the windows. Outside, the storm was building, the clouds getting darker and darker. The first hints of rain were starting to fall off in the distance. “I hope they collared him. If this person has him, and they’re keeping him some way without a collar, his empathy… I don’t want him to feel that. I don’t want him to have to remember feeling that.”

A low, pained sound pushed at Tony’s throat. It felt like something hard had lodged itself there. Spencer’s empathy was something he hadn’t wanted to think about. The one thing he’d tried so very _hard_ not to think about. Not just because he didn’t want to have to picture Spencer feeling the emotions of whoever had him, but because he knew how easily his boy could get overloaded if he wasn’t careful, or if he was really stressed, and was there any situation more stressful than being kidnapped?

The two men clung to one another for a long moment. They held tight to each other and watched as the rain started to fall, and they prayed for their missing family member.

Their moment was interrupted by Thor, who moved towards them on surprisingly silent feet. “Stark, Banner.” The usual booming sound of Thor’s voice had lowered to a slightly softer rumble. “Come. My brother has prepared food, and you need your sustenance.”

That right there had been another surprising development. Not once had Thor and Loki left them. The instant that things had gone to hell, they’d joined in with everyone, banding together and offering everything they could to try and help bring Spencer home. After his talk with Loki, Tony understood why. That didn’t stop it from continuing to be weird, though. Still, he had to admit, having the two of them there helped. Loki was calm and levelheaded, and smart, and he understood. He let Tony rant and rave when he needed to, listened to him rage. He was… a friend.

With Bruce nudging him along, Tony turned around to once more join the group of people who were moving through the penthouse. They had so many there. Jim was with Peter and Carol back at the Compound, doing what they could there, and Clint had managed to convince Laura to keep her and the kids there and out of the way, but that still left quite a few bodies here.

Vision was here. He was almost impossible to remove, actually. Any suggestion that he go to the Compound was met with a silent, blank stare. Trying to convince Clint to go was just about the same. The only time the archer left was to return to his family each night, and then he was right back here the next morning.

Logan was still with them, refusing to leave until he’d found his pup, and he’d brought Lark with him. She was determined to stay as well. Tony was more than grateful for Logan’s presence; he helped to keep things going, didn’t put up with anyone’s shit, and he helped keep track of Remy – which someone needed to do. The Cajun wasn’t taking this well at all. If it weren’t for Logan running herd on him, it was likely Remy would’ve skipped things like sleeping or eating entirely, and just spent all his time searching for Spencer. Watching him… if Tony hadn’t known before that the two cared for one another, he would’ve figured it out now.

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t just Logan who ran herd over Remy. _Loki_ seemed to have taken a liking to him. The two sniped at each other, took cheap shots, verbally sparred almost constantly, and yet Remy started to almost gravitate towards the mage whenever they were in the same room.

Adversity breeds interesting bonds, and it looked like those two were forming one.

Bruce pulled Tony over towards the table where food had been set out. All of it was finger food, things easy to pick up and easy to eat, and though none of it looked appealing, Tony still took some. He knew his family wouldn’t let him get away with not eating anything.

When Tony leaned in to reach for something, he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, and his already edgy nerves had him jerking back quick enough he almost spilled his plate.

Looking up, he found Thor standing beside him, hand outstretched and a surprised look on his face. Tony scowled at him. “What’re you doing?”

“You appear to have a snake in your hair,” Thor said, low and easy. “I was trying to get it.” He slanted a glance over across the table at his brother. “There are some who find them rather… humorous.”

A _what_? There was a _what_ in his hair? Tony’s brain stalled briefly, trying to process what Thor was saying, and what he was accusing Loki of. When the realization hit, it relaxed all of Tony’s muscles at once. “Oh! No, no, it’s no big deal, Rambo. It’s not what you’re thinking. Here, let me get her…” Reaching up, Tony reached into his hair for the presence he’d grown quite used to having there. Carefully, he extracted Alessia from his hair and brought her down to show the others. The little mechanical snake curled into his palm and lifted her head, hissing a little at them.

While Thor was looking at her with interest, it was Loki who leaned in and ran bright eyes over every inch of her. “She is _beautiful_.”

Warm pride lit Tony’s voice. “The kids made this for me as a Father’s Day gift. Her name’s Alessia, and she’s the smartest little robo-snake out there, aren’t you, gorgeous?”

Alessia flicked her tongue out at him and curled herself happily around his thumb.

For one brief moment, there was a feeling of peace, a tiny glimpse of warmth in the middle of their hellhole. Then it was all brought crashing down by just a few simple words.

“Sir,” JARVIS said, his voice hesitant in a way that had Tony’s whole body clenching down instinctively, ready for trouble. “I think you need to see this.”

* * *

The next little while passed by in a cycle of pain the likes of which Spencer had never experienced before, and yet in some ways was all too familiar with.

He knew what it was like to be shut up somewhere, left alone with the dark and his thoughts until the Unsub came back for more speeches, more pain. Spencer had lived through that in a small shack in Georgia at the hands of Tobias Hankle. But there, he’d had some escape. He’d had the Dilaudid that Tobias had repeatedly given him. He’d had the videos set up nearby that let him see real, living people. People that he knew he had to be strong to try and save. He’d had _hope_.

Here, Spencer was having a hard time grasping hold of something as flimsy as hope. His family was coming for him – of that, Spencer had no doubt. He just wasn’t sure what kind of condition he’d be in when they finally found him.

Being without his powers was almost harder than the physical pain that Alonzo put him through. The Unsub had a clear joy of causing pain. One that he hadn’t been able to really experience lately because of Spencer’s presence in this world. He didn’t hesitate to make up for that lack using Spencer’s body. Bruises, knife marks, burns, they marked his skin from head to toe, some of them with marks that Spencer knew would leave their scars. When he’d come to this universe, he’d lost a lot of the scars he’d earned in life. It felt sort of like Alonzo was helping to make up for that.

But no matter how much all of that hurt, no matter how deeply Alonzo cut, or how much Spencer bled, none of it touched that aching emptiness inside his chest that was growing day by day. It was slowly filling Spencer until it was hard to even breathe around it. Hard to lift his head, to make his body move. Hard to grab the food that Alonzo gave him.

Spencer had no idea how much time had passed since he’d been taken. He had no idea how long he’d been left down here. So far, Alonzo had come down and brought Spencer food seven different times, and he’d come for his little pain sessions twelve different times. Neither one of those were an accurate gauge of time, though.

Little by little, with each passing moment, Spencer began to wonder which way things were finally going to break. Would Alonzo finally sell him off, as he was threatening to do? Would he break down and kill Spencer? Or… would this emptiness finally grow big enough that Spencer no longer got up to do anything? Would he just fade away until there was nothing left but an empty shell?

 _Come on, Spencer!_ That voice sounded like Peter. It was the same tone he’d use when they were practicing, and Spencer was having a hard time getting the hang of things. _You can do it! I know you can!_

“I can’t,” Spencer mumbled. He lay there on the bed and turned his face to press against the pillow. “I can’t, Peter. ‘M sorry.”

_Yes, you can! You always tell me not to give up. To just keep on trying, no matter what. You gotta do the same!_

Why? Why should he bother? “I’m not strong enough.”

_Like hell you’re not. You’re one of the strongest people I know, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You can do this, Spencer. I believe in you. You’re strong, and you’re smart, and you can kick this guy’s ass!_

Spencer clutched tight to that little voice inside his head and tried his damnedest to hold on to it. He wasn’t strong enough, he never had been, but Peter had always seemed to think he was. He’d always seemed to think that Spencer was strong and amazing. And – as stupid as it was – something in Spencer didn’t want to let him down. He didn’t want to see the day when Peter finally realized he’d misplaced his faith in his best friend.

Holding tightly to those memories, Spencer let out a shaky breath, and let his eyes once more scan the room. Maybe this time he’d finally see something that could help him.

When he saw a faint hint of metal on the ground under the edge of the bed, a faint spark of something burst to life in Spencer’s chest.

 _Hope_.

* * *

The smell of the room was beginning to get to him. Alonzo still hadn’t come to unstrap Spencer for any bathroom trips, which meant that Spencer was left to crawl to the edge of the bed and try and aim into the same spot every time. He’d been sure that Alonzo would be furious because of it, but it only seemed to amuse him, and he took great joy in mocking Spencer about it.

What made this hard – almost as hard as not having his powers – was how little Alonzo seemed to actually care about Spencer as a person.

He was furious that Spencer had _screwed things up_ , sure. And he hated the BAU for chasing him down. But Spencer, personally? As a human being? Alonzo had no care about him at all. People like this, they weren’t as easy to profile, and they weren’t as easy to manipulate, either. Nothing Spencer did seemed to get him anything. Well, except for more pain. Alonzo was always ready to dish out more pain if he felt Spencer was talking too much.

Time down there began to lose meaning. Spencer wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. He had no idea just how long he’d been missing, or how long he’d been stuck here in this disgusting room. It felt like forever. Sometimes… sometimes Spencer was terrified that this was going to be it. That this room was going to be the last thing he’d ever see.

And then it happened.

Alonzo’s buyer arrived.

* * *

He took great pleasure in letting Spencer know what might happen to him. Alonzo enjoyed the fear it inspired in Spencer; the panic that he couldn’t quite hide. Spencer was forced to lay there and listen to all the things that Alonzo thought _might_ happen to him with this new person, how they might treat him, what they might want from him, and the sick feeling in Spencer’s stomach built and built with each passing moment. The only thing that kept him sane was the small, last desperate hope he had. His final chance for freedom, tucked away in the edge of the mattress near the wall where it wouldn’t be found.

When the man finally came for Spencer, he brought guards with him. Who the hell he was, or who they were, Spencer had no idea. He didn’t really care to find out, either.

Alonzo didn’t come downstairs with them. As Spencer lay on his bed, his back to the room, he heard the door to his room open, and the sound of footsteps. One set. Upstairs, Alonzo’s voice drifted down to him, which meant that he was still up there. _Thank God for small favors_. If Alonzo had come down, or if there’d been more than one guard, this wouldn’t have been as easy. But one guard might be dumb enough to think that small, scrawny Spencer was too weak to cause trouble. That’s what he was counting on, at least.

Spencer played his part. He kept limp, even when the guard touched him. He needed the person to think that he was too out of it to worry about. Mind racing with a sharpness that he hadn’t felt since the beginning, Spencer kept absolutely still, and he waited. Waited as the guard felt him over, hands copping a feel in places that had Spencer wanting to shudder, and he waited as the guy huffed out a laugh. “Boy, he really did a number on you. Least you aint gonna cause any trouble this way.”

Then came the moment Spencer had been waiting for. His bindings were released, letting his arms fall flat to the bed. He was _free_. When the hand reached for his shoulder to roll him over, there was no more time to wait, no more time to _think_. Spencer slid his hand alongside the edge of his mattress, and then he struck.

He knew he’d never forget the way it felt to roll over and flash that hand up, blade held firm and sure as it sliced across the man’s throat. _“If it’s life or death, don’t go for the stupid, easy shots,_ ” Clint had told him once. _“Go for the places you know they won’t get back up from. If you can, and quiet is important, go for the throat. They can’t scream, then._ ”

Blood sprayed down over him, and Spencer fought not to hurl. He drew his legs up, twisting to kick against the now flailing guard’s chest, sending him crashing back. Spencer wasted no time in launching up off his bed. Part of him wanted to run, but Uncle Clint’s voice was still in his head, and Spencer followed its direction. Before the guard had time to do more than gurgle at him, hands clutching at his throat, Spencer had grabbed the guy’s gun.

There wasn’t time to try and remove the collar, though that would’ve been Spencer’s best bet at getting out of there. With a gun in one hand and his knife in the other, Spencer stared up the staircase and debated which would be the smarter plan. Going up and trying to take them out as he ran or staying down here to pick them off one by one.

If he waited and they came for him, he might be able to get one, maybe two, but then they’d be on to him. They could lock him down here, or maybe find some way to gas him. There was no telling what they might do. The guy that Spencer had just taken out looked professional.

How many more were up there? Spencer cursed the damn collar that was keeping him from being able to tell. With his powers, he’d be able to tell how many people were up there, and build a plan accordingly.

 _No point in whining over things you can’t change_. Clint’s voice was back, firm and steady, giving Spencer the anchor he needed. _All you can do is work with what you’ve got._

Clenching tight to his weapons, Spencer drew in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way his body trembled. All his injuries were screaming at him. Yet, in a way, they were almost muted. Dull. Like he was feeling them through the same foggy haze that had settled over the rest of the world. Any other time and that might’ve worried him. Right now, Spencer was more than a little grateful for it. It was the only thing that made it possible for him to move towards the staircase and actually keep his steps as quiet as he knew how to do.

The voices got louder the closer Spencer got to the top. He held his breath until his lungs were screaming, and each move he made was just a whisper. For as long as he could, he clung to the shadows along the side, out of view of anyone.

 _Two voices_ , Spencer noted. But he could hear movement, and footsteps, suggesting there were at least two more people there. _Four. I can handle four._

Even if he couldn’t, well, he wasn’t going to die here. Spencer had made that choice the instant he’d grabbed that knife from under his bed. He was _not_ going to die here. And these people… they were the last thing standing between him and freedom.

Curling his hand a little more firmly over the gun, Spencer took one last deep breath, said a final prayer to a God he still wasn’t sure he even believed in, and then he moved.

What happened next was like something from a dream. Later, Spencer wouldn’t be able to remember all the details from it, which he was more than grateful for. His eidetic memory had already preserved far too much of this trauma for him.

Spencer was the first one to fire – he knew that. He took out one person before he’d even fully left the doorway and was firing on another when they all reacted. But that was where things got hazy. Spencer knew he fired the gun again, and again, and again until there were no bullets left, and he knew there were more bodies on the ground and a new, burning pain in his leg, but his next clear memory was of running out the front door clutching only his knife.

Long legs carried Spencer far and fast from that hellhole. He ran and ran, not caring about where he was going so long as it wasn’t _there_. He was so caught up in running, he never even noticed the people in front of him, not until he ran straight into one. Spencer slammed full-bodied into another person. Hands closed over him, gripping at him, and Spencer didn’t think. He lashed out with the blade that was still in his hand. It sank into flesh, and Spencer expected a cry of pain, a shout, even getting hit. What he _didn’t_ expect was for the person not to react at all. Not beyond a soft, “Calm yourself, little one. I’m not here to harm you.”

A snarl tore past Spencer’s lips. With great effort, he jerked himself back, bringing his knife with him. Every inch of his body hurt, and he wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to keep upright; yet he wasn’t going to just lay down and give up, either. He was so close to freedom! Like hell if he was going to lose it now!

Only, when Spencer finally focused on the person in front of him, what he found wasn’t at all what he expected to see.

It took a second for Spencer to realize who it was he was staring at. Anger switched to surprise. With wide eyes, he stared up at the person that his mind told him was Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard. “What...?”

There was no time for Loki to respond. Rustling sounded behind Spencer, reminding him of where they were, and what was going on. In a flash, Loki darted forward, placing himself directly between Spencer and the incoming threat, one hand coming out to catch Spencer’s waist and yank him in close while his other hand flung outwards. There was a blast of something that Spencer could _feel_ even if he didn’t see it. Power, flying through the air. It must’ve hit its target; the air filled with surprised cries and a few hard thuds.

Spencer found himself blinking a little fast like his eyes were trying to clear away the strange image in front of them. This didn’t seem real. It couldn’t be real. What on earth was Loki doing here, defending Spencer, keeping him safe? Why was he _here_? How did he even get here?

The arm around Spencer carefully drew him in a little bit closer, and the young genius had to fight not to slump against him. Exhaustion was starting to push in. Some part of Spencer’s brain was telling him that he’d found someone relatively safe and fighting was no longer necessary. His body was responding to that by losing the adrenaline-fueled tension.

Loki reacted to it by twisting in a little bit to better bring Spencer in towards his chest. “Relax, child. I have you,” the mage murmured lowly. “Your father is on his way, Spencer Stark. I promise you, he is on his way to you.”

The hope in Spencer’s chest grew even brighter. “D-Dad?” That was the only word Spencer could get out. A lump in his throat was keeping any other words locked up tight.

Loki gently smiled at him. “Yes. He was helping other members of your family take out some of the idiots who were guarding the East side. I approached this side with a friend of yours. One whom I believe is making his way towards us now.”

Spencer followed when Loki’s finger lifted to point. The next second, a familiar person came bursting out of the bushes, and Spencer’s breath punched out of him. Without even realizing it, he was moving, pulling away from Loki and trying to take a step forward on shaking, exhausted legs. He didn’t care how much it hurt or how tired he was. All he wanted was to get to Remy, now.

“ _Dieu_.” Remy shot forward as well, and it was a damn good thing he did. He got there just in time to catch Spencer up as his legs gave way underneath him. Remy caught Spencer in his arms and then yanked him in close until Spencer was plastered to his chest. It felt so damn good. _Safe_. Spencer’s entire being shuddered – body and soul – and he knew, he _knew_ , he was safe now. Loki had made him hope for it, but Remy’s presence made Spencer finally _believe_ it.

Remy’s arms held Spencer tight, and his face was pressed against Spencer’s hair. “Spencer, cher. _Mon amour_. Y’r all right. _Merci Dieu_ , y’r all right.”

“Remy.” Spencer choked on his name. Yet, it felt wonderful to say. Almost as wonderful as hearing Remy’s voice. “Remy. _Remy_.”

The arms around Spencer tightened. “Right here, Spencer. I got y’. Remy’s got y’ now. Aint no one gonna hurt y’ no more. I got y’, an Loki over here has our backs. We’re safe.”

One of Remy’s hands was cupping the back of Spencer’s head. It started to scratch lightly through his hair, against his scalp, and it was perfect. It was amazing; the first real, honest and positive touch he’d had in far too long. Any other time and Spencer would’ve curled up happily underneath it. As it was, there was just one thing, one important thing, that kept this all from being okay. That kept it from feeling real. Even as he thought about it, Remy’s hand shifted just enough for him to find it, and a low, filthy curse filled the air.

“What is it?” Loki’s voice was suddenly sharper and a whole lot closer.

Remy’s hand tightened on the collar, turning it a little as he clearly tried to find the closure on it. “A collar. Dey fuckin’ collared him. It shuts off a mutant’s powers.” His voice shifted into something lower and soothing, right near Spencer’s head again. “Gimme a second here, cher. Gonna get dis thing off y’, all right? Just give Remy a second an he’ll get dat fucker off of y’.” Then his voice changed once more, clearly meant for Loki this time. “Y’r gonna need to get back. I aint leaving dis thing on him any longer than I gotta, an he aint gonna be able to control himself when it comes off. Between de electricity and de empathy, it’s gonna be a helluva hit.”

In short order, Spencer felt as Remy found the spot he needed and as he did the necessary twist and pull that would set Spencer free.

Then, with one soft click, Spencer went from feeling _nothing_ to feeling _everything_.

He didn’t notice when all hands left him. All Spencer could focus on, all he could feel, was the rush of power that flooded his veins, and the warm blast of emotion that hit him square in the chest. Power was burning his veins, and it was so _good_. The whole world felt like it came alive once more. Spencer could sense the power in him, the electricity in the storm in the sky, and in the random blasts of lightning that were striking not too far away. He felt the emotions of two people nearby, one of them familiar and warm and _safe_ , and Spencer couldn’t help himself. He knelt there on the ground and wept from the joy of it.

When hands finally closed over him again, Spencer jumped only a little, recognizing them the instant they touched him. Remy’s emotions intensified with the contact. Leaning in, Spencer let Remy draw him up, and he let the Cajun tuck something warm around him. _His trench coat._

Then Spencer felt the most beautiful emotions in the world. Ones that he would know anywhere, no matter what was going on or how out of it he was. Spencer turned towards them automatically, not caring about the hands that braced him up. All he cared about was the familiar electrical signature that was coming towards him, and the emotions it carried inside.

When he finally turned, it was just in time to see the Iron Man suit touch down. It’d barely landed when it was opening up, and Tony came stumbling out, almost falling in his haste to get out of there. His eyes were bright and wild, and he looked exhausted, and Spencer had never wanted to see anyone more.  For the second time that night, Spencer broke away from the person holding him and started to stumble forward.

The two came together with enough force that it almost toppled both of them. Tony was clearly trying to be gentle, his hands soft as they ghosted over Spencer, but Spencer was having none of it. He flung his arms around Tony’s neck and clung for all he was worth. At that moment, it didn’t matter how old Spencer was, physically or mentally. It didn’t matter how strong he usually tried to be. There, at that moment, with Tony’s arms around him and his voice in Spencer’s ear, Spencer let himself be the little boy he truly felt like. He let himself melt into his Dad and trusted in Tony’s arms to hold him up. Low, broken whines slipped past his lips.

Tony tugged him in even closer, one arm wrapped tight around Spencer’s waist, and his other hand came up to cup the back of Spencer’s head. “Spencer. _Spencer_.”

It was there, held tight in his father’s arms, Spencer was free to stop fighting.

The very last thing he heard as he slipped down into the darkness was Tony’s voice calling out “Tell Bruce to get ready. We need to get him to the jet, now!”


	7. Chapter 7

The instant that Spencer passed out in his arms, Tony was moving. He needed to get his kid to the jet where they’d convinced Bruce to wait for them, Dr. McCoy there with him, and they needed to do it _now_. The smell of blood was strong, and what little Tony had glimpsed of the nude body under Remy’s coat – and he very much was not thinking about why his son might be nude – showed a lot of injuries.

When Tony went to scoop Spencer up, he found that Loki was already there. The mage had gentle hands out, yet he wasn’t touching him yet. Instead, he was looking at Tony for permission. “You cannot carry him there like this, and you won’t be able to put on your suit while holding him.”

That… was true. Little as Tony liked it, there was no way he was going to be able to hold on to Spencer and still put the suit back on, and though he could carry Spencer like this, they needed to get him there quickly. Tony was loathe to let go of Spencer, though. Not after he’d just gotten him back.

One look down at the bleeding boy and Tony pushed his own feelings aside. What mattered right now was getting Spencer taken care of. Tony’s own feelings came secondary. Right now, Spencer was the priority, and they needed to get him taken care of. “Take him,” Tony said, shifting Spencer’s weight around. “Teleport him to the jet, or whatever it is you do. I’ll catch up. Just… get him to Bruce.”

Loki’s arms were gentle as they carefully relieved Tony of his precious burden.  The instant Loki had Spencer settled in his arms, Tony was moving. He didn’t think there’d ever been a time where he’d moved so quickly. Even so, by the time he got it on, Loki was already gone, and Remy with him. It made Tony’s chest clench up to have Spencer out of his sight after just getting him back. Tony wasted no time in shooting himself up into the air and taking off for where the quinjet was waiting. His heart wasn’t going to settle until he saw Spencer again with his own two eyes. Until he could reach out and touch him, and feel that heartbeat pulsing steadily, feel the emotions that Spencer always projected when he was close and comfortable.

The forty-two seconds it took Tony to get to the jet were some of the longest he’d felt through this whole kidnapping.

When he landed, everyone had loaded up, and the quinjet was full, yet they all made room for Tony to put his suit into the secure spot on the side and then lock it down before hurrying out of it. Again, there was a path open to the side med-bed where Bruce was bent over a pale, too thin figure. At some point in the last minute, they’d gotten Remy’s coat off of Spencer and traded it out for a blanket over his waist to preserve his modesty. Yet, that was all it preserved. The rest of Spencer was right out there in the open for all of them to see.

The sight of it all was like a fist to the gut. Tony felt like he was going to throw up even as his knees threatened to give way under him. Somehow, he found the strength to stumble forward, to keep moving right up to Spencer’s side.

Hank was down near Spencer’s feet, and Bruce was at his side, and the two simply let Tony stumble right up to the head of the bed. There, Tony collapsed down onto it, hands already reaching for Spencer’s face. No one tried to stop him from getting close. Everyone knew what Spencer was like when he was hurt, and how he could react to medical situations even when he was at his best. Now, after what he’d so clearly gone through? They wanted to make damn sure the first thing he saw or felt when he woke up was _Tony_.

Unfortunately, with Spencer still unconscious there was nothing for Tony to do except look down at the damage done to the frail body stretched out in front of him. _A week_ , Tony thought helplessly. _He only had him for a week. How the hell did they do so much damage?_

There were numerous cuts and bruises in varying stages of healing. It looked like there hadn’t been an inch of Spencer’s body that this bastard hadn’t felt the need to go after. Tony had to once more fight against throwing up. There was no doubt in his mind that Spencer bore at least a broken rib or two, judging by the bruises there, and the rest of him… Tony hated it. He hated it so _fucking much_. The rage that he’d been carrying with him ever since JARVIS had shared what he’d found – a hint, a reference, on one of the mutant auction websites they already kept a close watch on – still hadn’t faded away. Tony had taken out some guards, that was it. He hadn’t been to the house, hadn’t got to touch the bastard who had dared hurt his son. At that moment, there was nothing Tony wanted more.

Fire was in Tony’s eyes when he looked up to the group around him. There was little space; all of them had wanted to come for this, and the Accords Council hadn’t been stupid enough to stop them. Thankfully, they’d taken two jets: on this one there was Dr. McCoy, Jean Grey, Bruce, Tony, Remy, and Loki. On the other, the one with the prisoners, was Thor, Clint, Vision, and one of the newer recruits, Kate Bishop. Clint was in charge of flying that jet, while Jean was in charge of flying this one.

Looking over them all, Tony couldn’t help how his voice slipped into a snarl. “Tell me we’ve got the bastards in custody.”

“All those alive were captured,” Loki told him, tone dark. He looked disappointed with that.

Bruce tilted his head, cocking one eyebrow in a look he’d picked up from Tony. “Alive?”

A warm, fierce light was in Logan’s eyes, and his grin carried a bloodthirsty kind of pride to it that was equal parts disturbing and chilling. “At least three guys were dead from gunshots, an a guy down in the basement had his throat slashed.”

There was a sound of surprise from the front of the jet. Jean didn’t look away, too caught up in takeoff, but her voice clearly carried back to them, full of surprise. “Are you trying to suggest that _Spencer_ cut someone’s throat?”

Tony could believe it. With the injuries he could see right now – he could believe it.

Once more, he was surprised when Loki spoke, and even more so by the tone of respect clear in every single word. “Your son is smart, Stark. He got a weapon from them somehow. When we came upon one another, I startled him, and he did not hesitate to stab me.” Loki didn’t look the least bit disturbed by that. He ignored the looks shot his way and instead grinned, once more showing that respect that was so startling to see. “He is a warrior. You should be proud of him.”

Tony absolutely was. Tortured, cut off from his powers in a way that Tony knew was agonizing – he’d seen the reports on those suppression collars, knew what it could do to mutants – and still, Spencer had managed to get a weapon, break free, and run.

Turning back to his son, he looked down at the face below his that, even in sleep, was lined with pain. Bending low, Tony placed a kiss on his forehead. “I don’t care what you did,” he murmured, voice whisper-soft against Spencer’s skin. “ _I don’t care._ You made it home, an that’s all that matters to me, Firefly. We’ll deal with the rest of it.”

And they would. Tony could deal with anything so long as it meant Spencer was home, and safe.

* * *

Lately, every time that Spencer woke, the world had been a dull, empty place, with pain his constant companion. No matter what else, no matter how heavy the world felt to him, or how empty, the pain was always there.

It was there this time as well – Spencer registered it even as he started to drift awake, instinctively cataloging what hurt and where. But this time, it wasn’t _just_ the pain that greeted him. This time, there was so much _more_.

Familiar emotions were wrapping around Spencer and curling down through his insides, chasing away the chill that lingered after so many days of feeling nothing. They were warm and so full of love it brought tears to Spencer’s eyes before he’d even managed to open them. A tremor ran through him, and he turned his face into the softness underneath it. A softness he quickly realized was a _shirt_. Tony’s shirt, to be specific. His dad’s emotions grew stronger when he realized that Spencer was awake. The arm that was around the young genius shifted, curling up a little until familiar fingers were threading their way through Spencer’s hair, and it was perfect, it was everything Spencer had wanted for days and days now.

There were others nearby. Peter’s presence was the soft heaviness of sleep, coming from down by Spencer’s feet. Nearby, the coffee-warmth of Remy’s presence. And off to the other side, the strong yet steady pulse of Bruce and the Hulk.

They were all here, and Spencer was here, and _God_ , he’d gotten out! He was safe!

Spencer pressed his face a little harder against Tony’s shirt. He didn’t want to risk opening his eyes, stupid though that might seem. He knew this wasn’t a dream, yet he couldn’t seem to get rid of the fear that _maybe it was_. Maybe his mind had been pushed too far, and he’d finally snapped. Maybe this was all just some hallucination. A memory. Trembling at the idea of it, Spencer curled aching hands in against the soft material of Tony’s shirt, and he pressed in even closer. A low whine slid up his throat that he didn’t even notice. “ _Dad._ ”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Tony’s fingers started their familiar scratching at Spencer’s scalp while his other hand began to rub at Spencer’s arm, and then his back. “You’re home now. We’re in Medical back at the Compound. You’re safe, and so’s the rest of the family. We’re all here, and we’re all okay.”

Even if this was a dream, even if the whole thing shattered because of this, Spencer couldn’t keep himself from reaching out with his empathy. He needed to feel Tony’s emotions tight up against his after days and days of being forced to be alone in a dead world. Spencer needed to feel _real_.

Tony, as always, didn’t even try and stop him. He let Spencer’s empathy twine around him and grab at him like a toddler latching on to their favorite toy. _Or a terrified child clinging to their parent_. Spencer grabbed on, and Tony let him, drawing him in and cradling him even tighter than before. “That’s it. There you go, Firefly. You know how this works. Take what you need, hm? I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Linked this closely to Tony’s emotions, there was no more room for doubt. This was real. _It was real_. He was _home_!

With that realization came the tears that Spencer had so far managed to hold back.

He tried to turn himself in against Tony and burrow down into the man. For the most part, Tony let him, bringing Spencer in until he was draped over his dad’s chest like a baby, though he was gentle around certain parts of him. Still, he didn’t try to stop Spencer from taking what he so obviously needed. If anything, he encouraged it with careful hands and gentle words. There, buried against the strongest and most steady person in his world, Spencer finally felt like he could _breathe_. It was ridiculous, yet despite the sobs that were breaking free, and the tears burning paths down his face, Spencer felt like he could breathe for the first time in a week.

 “You’re all right, Firefly,” Tony was telling him, keeping up a steady stream of reassurances the whole time that Spencer cried. “I got you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A shudder shook Spencer hard, making all his pains come to life, yet he didn’t pull away. “You found me.” The words came out before Spencer even realized he was going to say them.

Tony’s hand tightened briefly in his hair. “We never stopped looking, kiddo. We did everything we could to bring you home – all of us.”

“I knew you’d come.”

That had been the truth that Spencer had lived by. The one that held him together through some of the darkest moments of his time in that basement. He’d known that Tony was coming for him; that he would never stop looking until he found Spencer. Even if tonight’s escape plan hadn’t worked, and the buyer really had managed to get hold of him, Spencer had known that Tony would still be looking.

As the tears began to slow, gentle fingers were tipping Spencer’s face up, bringing it out into the light. He blinked open gritty eyes just in time to see the handkerchief that Tony brought to his face. It was soft, perfect for Spencer’s skin, and the older man used it to gently wash away all signs of Spencer’s tears. When he was done, he held it against Spencer’s nose. “Blow.”

It felt silly to let Tony hold that for him. Doing it himself would’ve meant letting go, though, and Spencer wasn’t ready for that. The only thing he could do was lean in and follow Tony’s command, blowing his nose.

Once that was done with, Tony tossed the handkerchief off somewhere to the side, and he brought his hand back to Spencer’s face. The two stared at one another, studying each other. In Tony’s face, Spencer could see the signs of stress, of sleepless nights, and he hated that he’d been the cause of it. But at the same time, he saw the kind of love that he’d only ever witnessed from his mother, and only then when she was lucid. Tony was the only ever person to offer Spencer that kind of unconditional love. Seeing it, Spencer ducked his head back down, flushing as he buried his face once more against Tony’s shirt. There, safe in his hiding spot, he whispered: “Love you, Dad.”

He heard Tony suck in a sharp, surprised breath, but he didn’t have time to think on it. Not when Tony’s emotions were wrapping him up even more than before and holding him just as tightly as Tony’s arms were. “Love you too, Spencer.”

Held close and safe, with Tony’s emotions around him, Spencer finally, _finally_ felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. Here we are :) Recovery will come in the next story - and there's going to be quite a lot of it in there. We wanted to do it justice so it gets a story of its own. Plus, other things happen, NICE things. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. We're so happy! We aren't sure how long it'll take for the next one, but just know this story is not abandoned. The next story WILL come
> 
> THANK YOU ALL


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